The 99th Games: Twelve Days to Midnight
by Royscalo
Summary: The Capital has been experimenting, and they've found a type of mutt they like.  Little do the tributes know, these new mutts will be tested on them, and there is almost no chance of survival.  After the bloodbath, the real murder will start...
1. Rules and Sponsor List

Hi guys! This is my Hunger Games story (some of) you have been waiting for! Unfortunately, as seen on my profile, this story will not start until May 10, 2011. Doesn't matter, because that gives you a lot of time to create all 24 tributes! I have no reserved spots, and it is first come, first serve! I will also accept suggestions for mentors, but I am not making a form for that. The form is below. Since three industries are never mentioned in the books, I have made mine fit to common belief (see below).

**Update: Surprisingly, I didn't have to move anybody around except for Prophet. Sorry, Queen, but I cannot use Emily Mellark as a tribute. YourWorstEnemy suggested an idea I really liked, so now District 3 has two guys. And somebody will die before the timer runs out (before the Games start)! Seven will die in the bloodbath.**

**Update: Only one space left, and and a girl, too! (Isn't usually the girls that fill up fast?) District 9**

**Update: Here is how the sponsor system works:**

**1 review = 5 points**

**1 correct answer to chapter riddle = 10 points**

**1 correct answer to chapter trivia = 5 points**

**Here is the point layout:**

**1 point = Loaf of tessera bread**

**2 points = Small pouch for keeping things**

**3 points = Loaf of Capitol bread**

**4 points = Coil of rope**

**5 points = Bag of medicine**

**6 points = Poison**

**7 points = Tarp**

**8 points = Fresh Capitol meat**

**9 points = Stack of wood**

**10 points = Dagger**

**15 points = Medicine (injection)**

**20 points = Large pouch**

**25 points = Capitol dinner meal**

**30 points = Leather**

**50 points = Green backpack**

**100 points = Heavily sharpened sword**

**Be careful how you spend your points! It may make the difference between life and death for your tribute! You will not be able to send anything to the tributes until after the bloodbath.**

**Update: Girl space filled! On with the Games!**

**Update:** **Added Mentors, Stylists, and Escorts. Also, this story doesn't follow direct canon, because in this the 75th Quarter Quell was different, and Peeta didn't end up volunteering for Haymitch because Haymitch wasn't chosen. Katniss and Peeta live together in District 12 with their son and daughter: Emily and Ryan. As a result, the rebellion never built up enough to destory the Capitol, but they are still plotting on how. The 75th Quarter Quell, what happened to Haymitch, and the 100th Quarter Quell will all be revealed in this story.**

**District 1 – Luxury Items**

**Boy:** Marcus Lain, 16 (jamesss) Design: Two swords crossed, an arrow going through them

**Girl:** Flare Heartforth, 16 (spindleberried) Design: A raven in flight

**Escort: **Janiy Erren

**Mentor:** Finn Yang, Winner of 80th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Demi Bell, Jay Zaven

**District 2 – Stone and Weaponry**

**Boy:** Conan Becker, 14 (1puppyluv) Design: A set of spears crossed over a skull

**Girl:** Ruby Todem, 14 (-Miss Book-) Design: Black background with a light blue handprint

**Escort:** Orrin Verb

**Mentor:** Rordan Weeks, Winner of 79th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Dale Jordan, Arden Ills

**District 3 – General Electronics**

**Boy: **Ryder Josker, 15 (skgirl4ever) Design: Black sword

**Boy:** Atlas Sydai, 15 (YourWorstEnemy2010) Design: Upside-down factory

**Girl:** Heron Rockon, 15 (skgirl4ever) Design: Black heart

**Escort:** Waylan Eragan

**Mentor:** Hanger Serra, Winner of 66th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Raiden Tecks, Parden Flow

**District 4 – Fishing**

**Boy:** Safin S. Bayview, 17 (Fifidear) Design: Modern art sun, looking like seaweed splayed on the beach

**Girl:** Swan Tindle, 17 (StarClan's Saviour) Design: Small silver fishhook inside large brown owl

**Escort:** Greene Anders

**Mentor:** Kharell Sands, Winner of 86th Hunger Games

**Stylists: **Mikaella Egbers, Halevey Venna

**District 5 – Scientific Research**

**Boy:** Thor Vang, 17 (MockingJay and the jabberJay) Design: Half a silver heart

**Girl:** Daniella Lamonde, 15 (Maelle Robins) Design: Light-pink diamond

**Escort:** Varden Miller

**Mentor: **Brennen Berra, Winner of 71st Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Jezebelle Derrick, Axton Buchta

**District 6 – Medicine**

**Boy:** Alexander Van Der Donck, 18 (Haddad Hatter) Design: A lion reared in attack, with ivy leaves in a circle pattern behind it, all in gold

**Girl:** Scarlet Saracen, 17 (zackt2010) Design: ?

**Escort:** Fred Hallen

**Mentor:** Adrien Van Der Donck, Winner of 72nd Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Opal Hendricks, Caroline Saracen

**District 7 – Lumber**

**Boy:** Rupert Stevens, 16 (Oggytheogre321) Design: Two crossed axes

**Girl: **Anna Garys, 16 (Me) Design: A cluster of blue trees

**Escort:** Terran Berice

**Mentor: **Xavier Jarr, Winner of 60th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Amy Canopa, Wellin Brooks

**District 8 – Textiles**

**Boy:** Prophet Thenidiel, 16 (AlienWonton) Design: Ornate cross etched into plain black circle

**Girl:** Bea A. Dechers, 18 (Me) Design: Large red cross with Cornucopia in middle

**Escort:** Garren Fedora

**Mentor:** Laemon Star, Winner of 73rd Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Jem Lazuli, Garret Donner

**District 9 – Food Processing**

**Boy:** Cain Ceders, 14 (1puppyluv) Design: A stag

**Girl:** Penelope Young, 17 (Oggytheogre321) Design: A yellow lightbulb

**Escort:** Red Astor

**Mentor:** Jackson Burma, Winner of 75th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Grema Burrow, Ima Dess

**District 10 – Livestock**

**Boy:** Cannan Thrush, 16 (3rdbase101) Design: Profile of a horse's head in black, with a gold coin for an eye

**Girl:** Swift Jenssen, 16 (StarClan's Saviour) Design: Red heart overlaying a spear and arrow

**Escort:** Ellie Yarline

**Mentor:** Remy Jordan, Winner of 82nd Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Avery Bank, Zeba Dassar

**District 11 – Agriculture**

**Boy:** Mason Takoma, 18 (zackt2010) Design: ?

**Girl:** Rain Ataehu, 15 (YourWorstEnemy2010) Design: Blood splattered green apple

**Escort:** Jake Estrange

**Mentor:** Merma Bracken, Winner of 84th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Peck Rang, Fran Sandrea

**District 12 – Coal Mining**

**Boy:** Ryan Mellark, 13 (Devil'sXAdvocate) Design: The Mockingjay

**Girl:** Melanie Sageburn, 12 (Tiggerluhoo) Design: Diamond on fire, emerging from coal.

**Escort: **Jax Embers

**Mentor:** Peeta Mellark, Winner of 74th Hunger Games

**Stylists:** Tigra Ellis, Shimmer

**Sponsor Points!**

jamesss (Sponsoring Marcus Lain) 57 points

spindleberried (Sponsoring Flare Heartforth) 105 points

1puppyluv (Sponsoring Conan Becker) 10 points

-Miss Book- (Sponsoring Ruby Todem) 15 points

skgirl4ever (Sponsoring Heron Rockon) 10 points

YourWorstEnemy2010 (Sponsoring Atlas Sydai) 15 points

Fifidear (Sponsoring Safin S. Bayview) 20 points

StarClan's Saviour (Sponsoring Swift Jenssen) 15 points

MockingJay and the jabberJay (Sponsoring Thor Vang) 60 points

Maelle Robins (Sponsoring Daniella Lamonde) 10 points

Haddad Hatter (Sponsoring Alexander Van Der Donck) 55 points

zackt2010 (Sponsoring Scarlet Saracen) 45 points

Oggytheogre321 (Sponsoring Rupert Stevens) 10 points

AlienWonton (Sponsoring Prophet Thenidiel) 35 points

BeiiTaToKiiTa (Sponsoring Bea A. Dechers) 15 points

3rdbase101 (Sponsoring Cannan Thrush) 15 points

EnvyIsMySin (Sponsoring Ryan Mellark) 45 points

Tiggerluhoo (Sponsoring Melanie Sageburn) 10 points

Gergo Pasztor (Sponsoring Ryder Josker) 10 points

GodricsRanger (Sponsoring ?) 5 points

Thebreadneedsthefire (Sponsoring ?) 5 points

**POV LIST (Bold means POV**

**District 1**

Marcus Lain  
**Flare Heartforth**

**District 2**

Conan Becker  
**Ruby Todem**

**District 3**

**Atlas Sydai  
**Ryder Josker  
**Heron Rockon**

**District 4**

**Safin S. Bayview  
**Swan Tindle

**District 5**

**Thor Vang  
**Daniella Lamonde

**District 6**

**Alexander Van Der Donck  
**Scarlet Saracen

**District 7**

**Rupert Stevens  
Anna Garys**

**District 8**

**Prophet Thenidiel  
Bea A. Dechers**

**District 9**

Cain Ceders  
**Penelope Young**

**District 10**

**Cannan Thrush  
Swift Jenssen**

**District 11**

Mason Takoma  
**Rain Ataehu**

**District 12**

**Ryan Mellark  
Melanie Sageburn  
**


	2. Tributes One: Mute and Troubled

**AN:** Ok, I guess I started *a little bit* early, as I am waiting for the District 9 girl from a PM. Here are the rules for the drops: A correct answer to the riddle earns you 5 points, while a correct identification of trivia from the chapter earns you ten points. Regular reviews do not earn you anything. As for what the points earn you, it will stay the same throughout the whole story. It is on the Tribute Application. Now, here are the first four District reapings!

**Marcus Lain – District 1**

My name is Marcus Lain. I am a Career of District 1. And I have had a crush on Flare Heartforth for a very long time. Wait…before I go on about her, let me tell you about myself.

I am 16 years old. I have long dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. I like to think my hair is my best feature, but many girls say I'm pretty muscular. I laugh at that. Like I would sleep with any girl except Flare…

My little brother, Matt, pulled on my arm.

"Marcus! Stacy has to be entered this year!" he yelled. I cursed underneath my breath. I had a hard enough time supporting my family, without having to worry about my siblings.

You see, ever since the Revolution, every year, every child from the age of 12 to 18 has their name entered into the Annual Hunger Games. The Hunger Games…a taped death tournament.

I had forgotten Stacy was now 12. But no matter what, I couldn't let her be chosen for the Hunger Games. I had to protect her…I didn't care about the cost. I pulled on a black dress shirt and pants, and brought out a messy rag. I started to clean my shoes.

"Don't worry, Matt. I will protect Stacy." I said, slightly reassuring. I pulled on the now-shiny shoes and walked out the door.

It was a dreary day, as it always was during the Hunger Games reapings. It was the 99th Games. All I had to think was, 'At least it isn't the Quarter Quell.'

Last Quarter Quell they had…I couldn't even talk about it. It had been horrible.

Everyone was already standing in their places. I hurried up to my friend, Ax, who was standing in the 16 line.

"They're right about to start." He whispered to me. But before I could say anything, our escort, Janiy Erren, smiled with her shiny teeth showed. I rolled my eyes in disgust. All of the Capitol people were like this. Ax cracked his knuckles.

"Hi! Welcome to the Reaping for the 99th Hunger Games! It's time to pick the tributes…and may the odds ever be in your favor!" Great. Another Capitol saying.

"As always…girls first." Said Janiy. She dug around in the ball for a second, and then pulled out a name.

"Stacy Lain." No way. My name was entered 20 times, and hers was one out of thousands. You had got to be kidding me. There was no way I could volunteer for her. She was a girl!

But then Flare stepped forward. "I volunteer." She said.

"Well, that's settled." Said Janiy. "And now, for the boys."

"I volunteer!" I said, jumping up. Ax looked at me in surprise. He made a motion for me to get back in line, but I ignored him. This was my last chance with Flare.

As I walked to the front, Flare, with her beautiful bronze colored hair and teal eyes…whispered to me, "Did you just volunteer to be with me?" she asked.

I thought she would beat me over the head, but I said, "Yes."

"Okay." She said, and I stared back in surprise.

"Here are your District 1 tributes!" shouted Janiy. I was smiling. But then I glanced over and saw Stacy and Matt crying. I hung my head. They would probably soon be without a brother.

**Heron Rockon – District 3**

The Reapings. Possibly the worst thing the Capitol ever thought of, excluding the mutts. I brushed some dirt off of my new dress. My name is Heron Rockon.

My brother Hatcher waved from across the way. He looked pretty smart in his suit, the best he could afford…even though he would only use it once that year. I have light brown hair, just like my mother. It went down to my elbows. Hatcher said that was too long.

My hazel eyes blinked in the bright sunlight of District 3. Today would be a long day. I was only hoping I wasn't picked. I saw my friend Ryder Josker coming toward me. I liked Ryder because he was funny, but I couldn't admit to him that I liked my other friend, Hinder Grunger, more than him.

Ryder was wearing a matching shirt and pants. I could only guess his mom, Andra, had made him wear it.

Ryder had shaggy jet black hair, tan skin, and light brown eyes. He smiled. I smiled back at him. I looked around for Hinder, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, can everyone get in their places, please?" asked our escort, Waylan Eragan. Waylan was…a bit annoying, but I hurried to get in line, and gave a thumbs up sign to Ryder.

**Atlas Sydai – District 3**

The Hunger Games. For once, I couldn't wait. I couldn't believe all the crap winners got, and it was just waiting for me on a plate…if I win, anyways. Which I will.

Waylan Eragan was standing at the podium, talking in his annoying, run-on way.

"Ok, we're starting with the girls!" he shouted. I rolled my eyes.

"I think it's…Heron Rockon?" he called out. I saw Heron on the other side of the podium. I mean, she was beautiful, but not drop dead jump off a cliff beautiful. She looked surprised, but then kept a straight face and walked up to the podium. I heard a gasp next to me. Ugh…Ryder. I knew he had a crush on her.

Heron's brother, Hatcher, put a hand on Ryder's shoulder. "Calm down." He said.

"Boys…Ryder Josker." muttered Waylan.

"I volunteer!" I shouted…right as Ryder turned to glare at me. Oh great.

"No…" muttered Ryder. "I have to go with Heron."

"Oh really?" I asked, trying not to get angry. "Just because you want to follow your girlfriend around shouldn't prevent me from getting into the Games!"

"Hey! What the hell, man?" Ryder shoved me. I punched him in the face.

He shoved me again, and I fell backwards off the stage. Spectators stumbled backwards.

"Stop! Stop!" shouted Waylan. "You can both go." A few gasps escaped from the crowd.

"What do you mean?" asked Ryder.

"Well…in the 87th Games, in District 1, two girls argued over which one of them could go to the Games, and one ended up killing the other. We decreed that tributes cannot be killed before the Games start. So, either you guys figure out which one is going to go, or you both go."

"We…we both go." Said Ryder.

"Alright then. Get up here." I climbed back onto the stage, just as Waylan announced: "Here are your three tributes from District 3!"

**Prophet Thenidiel – District 8**

I really, really hated that escort. Garren Fedora, with his stupid Capitol accent and ugly face…wow, did the Capitol really hit their heads hard this time sending this idiot to us for the Reapings. Just the way he babbled his ugly mouth when talking about past deaths in the Games…disgusting.

My name is Prophet Thenidiel, but you would never hear me say that. I'm mute…or I think myself as it, at least. I have feathery black hair that falls down to my shoulders, I'm really thin and pale, and I have heterochromia…one of my eyes is blue, and the other is black. If you put all that together, I'm not exactly the perfect candidate for the Hunger Games.

I wore a thin black turtleneck, with the sleeves rolled up, with a gray t-shirt on top of that. I had blue jeans…slightly frayed…and a pair of black combat boots.

My grandfather, Maestro, put his hand on my shoulder.

"Good luck." he said. For a minute, it looked like he was actually going to smile, but he didn't. I waved to Keenan, my 'brother', and walked out the door.

I had barely gone a few steps before Andrew stepped in front of me. He was very tall, somewhat of a bully, and he wore an extravagant red hat which towered over me.

"You owe me." he said. "Tax collection."

"Oh, really?" I signaled.

"Yea. You owe me three bucks. Pay up."

"I don't have any more. You and your shady friends already took them all." I signaled again.

"You sure?"

"If you're desperate…maybe I could see if I could get some money from my mom or…maybe we could fix something up?" I was getting angry. This brute stole money from me every day.

"Yea…I'll just put you down for six bucks tomorrow." he said, smiling. Waving, he walked away, his hat precariously balanced on the edge of his head.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. What a stupid hat.

Suddenly, I heard the voice of Willow behind me. I smiled. Willow…wait, what was I doing? I was going to be late for the reapings! I pulled my hands out of my pockets and ran towards the town square.

A few minutes later, I jumped into line, just as Garren Fedora finished, "…and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

"Now, the girls first!" he reached into the ball, his hand scrabbling around like a huge greasy spider.

"Um…Bea Deshers? Bea Deckers?" he called out.

"It's Bea Dechers." said Bea, angrily walking up to the stage. Bea was tall, which cherry red hair and dark, almost evil, blue eyes. A lot of guys admired her, but she didn't care. She always had a bad temper, but was nice to Prophet when she could be.

My grandfather's silver ring rolled around in my hand.

"Whatever." said Garren. "Boys!"

"It is…" Garren reached into the sea of paper bits. "Prophet Thenidiel!" Extreme surprise flittered across my face for a second, but then disappeared as I walked towards the podium.

Garren smiled, one of his teeth missing. "Here are your tributes!" he shouted, wrapping his huge hands around my arm and half-lifting me up into the air. I lowered my gaze, trying to avoid the metallic stare of the cameras.

**Swift Jenssen – District 10**

I straightened my red dress as I walked past the cows towards the square. My friends gathered around me, Carrly, Mika, Jaque, and Lita. My best friends.

I rubbed the piece of apple bark I held in my hands.

My name is Swift Jenssen. I am 16 years old, and I have light brown hair and blue eyes. I have tan skin, and my mom Kacey says I look really pretty. I hope that's true, especially since this is her dress.

It didn't take very long to get to the square. People were milling around at the bottom of the stage, and our escort, Ellie Yarline, was brushing dust off of her jacket.

I let out a small gasp as I saw Cannan Thrush on the other side of the stage. Cannan was 16, and he had dark blonde hair and ice blue eyes. He wore a t-shirt…with mud on it, and faded jeans. He wore no shoes. Cannan hated shoes.

I liked Cannan. Usually, he had a lot of people following him. Now, he had a horde of girls following him. I smiled again.

Ellie motioned for everyone to get into position. Ellie was mute. She had been in an accident some years ago, and now she couldn't say a word. Her throat was hidden behind her jacket.

Everyone quieted down. Ellie pointed to the girls, and then tenderly reached her hand into the glass ball. She pulled out a slip of paper, and then showed it to a man standing next to her.

"Swift Jenssen." he said. I couldn't believe it. But before the cameras could zoom in on my reaction, I became confident and walked up to Ellie. I saw her reach into the boys' papers.

"Cannan Thrush." said the man. Cannan, with a surprised look on his face, walked toward me. He didn't say anything. Ellie pointed to both of us, then raised her hands. The crowd cheered.

**AN:** Ok, time for the riddle that can earn you points! Put the answer in your review.

"Two boys look exactly the same. They were born on the same day, in the same year, and they have the same biological mother and father, but they are not twins. They are not Siamese twins or clones, but they are still brothers. How is this possible?"

Also, if you recognized the book reference in this chapter, tell me what book it was! Good luck!


	3. Tributes Two: Rushing Forward

**AN:** Well, if you want your character to survive, you SHOULD get points to get them prizes. Here are the answers:

Riddle answer: The boys are two of a triplet.

Book reference: Bone (graphic novel by Jeff Smith), the part where Andrew demands money from Prophet. Note: I will not have a reference every chapter.

Here are the current sponsor points: Marcus Lain (5), Flare Heartforth (5), Conan Becker (5), Ruby Todem (5), Ryder Josker (0), Atlas Sydai (10), Heron Rockon (0), Safin S. Bayview (0), Swan Tindle (0), Thor Vang (0), Daniella Lamonde (0), Alexander Van Der Donck (0), Scarlet Saracen (5), Rupert Stevens (5), Anna Garys (5), Prophet Thenidiel (5), Bea A. Dechers (5), Cain Ceders (5), Penelope Young (5), Cannan Thrush (5), Swift Jenssen (0), Mason Takoma (5), Rain Ataehu (10), Ryan Mellark (5), and Melanie Sageburn (0). Two tributes with the same owner share the points. Time for the next four Districts!

**Swan Tindle – District 4**

I pulled my hair down, searching for the brush. Where had it gone? I glanced up, seeing my mocha colored skin in the mirror. My bright green eyes sparkled, but they looked like they didn't belong on my face. My brother Cardinal peeked around the corner, smiling. He seemed very giddy.

"Well, Swan, it's my last year, isn't it?" He laughed. I brushed him aside.

My name is Swan Tindle. I am 17 years old. I tried to straighten out my brown dress, but the holes were too hard to ignore. Great. They would probably distract me during the Reapings. I held my sister Egret's hand as we walked out the door, towards the Reapings.

My brother Owl danced along behind us. I smiled, remembering the silver fishhook he had given me. I stepped into the ringed area, letting go of Egret. My shoes tapped on the wet pavement.

Our mentor arrived. Kharell, he looked about thirty, and had a white suit on. That would get ruined easily. What was he thinking?

Our escort looked nicer than the average Capitol person. Greene Anders, his name was, but then he spoke…

He had a deep rumbling voice.

"Hello, District 4. I know you probably don't want to be here today…" That was weird. No escorts ever spoke the truth. "…but there is a chance that whoever is picked will win! You will be showered with gifts. Now, let's go with the girls first."

He reached into the glass ball. He pulled out a name.

"Egret Tindle." he said. What? The twins couldn't break up! Before I could stop myself I said, "I volunteer!" Some people grinned.

"You do?" asked Greene. He looked me up and down. I hid my face. Greene went to pull out the boys' name. Oh, that stupid clumsy oaf.

Greene knocked his hand into the glass, and the ball tipped and fell off of the table. It rolled across the stage, and then crashed onto the street. Pieces of paper fluttered around. One flew up into Greene's face. He reached out his hand to grab it, but missed.

"Get it!" he shouted. As he grabbed the air again, he tumbled off the stage, reminding me of something in the back of my mind, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it…

The piece of paper was snatched out of the air by Kharell. He read aloud, "Safin S. Bayview."

Safin? Oh no.

Safin was this guy with a deep ember shade of green eyes and straight faded brown hair. He has tan skin and red scars all over the place, matching some of my own.

I thought him okay, but there was no way I would be able to compete with him in the games. Wonderful.

Safin walked up to the stage, wearing shorts and loose shorts. His hair was still wet from swimming.

Greene shoved us two together and shouted "Welcome your District 4 tributes!"

**Anna Garys – District 7**

I wore my green dress, glancing at the giant trees surrounding the square. My name is Anna Garys. I am 17 years old. And it was time for the 99th Annual Hunger Games.

I thought about the past Games. The 37th, where Titus ate his opponents. The 50th , where Haymitch Abernathy killed his opponent by bouncing an axe off of the force field. The 74th, where Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen won together. The 80th, where Finn Yang destroyed 20 tributes at the bloodbath. And finally, the 86th, where not one tribute died in the beginning at the Cornucopia. It was madness.

The 99th, where District 1 was destined to win again.

I noticed others getting ready at the stage, our escort, Terran Berice, talking to our super-old mentor, Xavier Jarr. At least…he was old in my opinion.

I stood behind the other 17-year-olds in the line. I saw my father, Ferris, waving at me. I waved back.

Xavier Jarr sat down in his seat on the stage. Terran took the microphone. Wow…his accent was very…depressing.

"Hello, all! Welcome to the District 7 reapings for the 99th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" People straightened up and some rushed to get into their places.

I was planning on volunteering. I have light blonde hair and brown eyes, but I have been forced to work since I was young. I had a few muscles, as a result, and my father was an expert on the Games, and he had told me everything I needed to know to stay alive. I didn't need Xavier or Terran or anyone else. I would destroy everyone.

"Girls!" said Terran in his funny accent.

"I volunteer." I said. Some people looked back in surprise. District hadn't had a volunteer in a long time. Would I win or lose?

I wonder who would come up to the stage from the boys side. I noticed some strong looking guys, especially Rupert Stevens. I would bet my life that he was volunteering. Rupert Stevens was one year younger than me, 16, and had a buzz cut of brown hair and a short goatee. He wore a pair of brown pants and a black jacket. He had a sneer on his face.

"Ok, now, boys!" said Terran.

"I volunteer!" shouted Rupert. I knew it.

Rupert was tall, about six foot five, and most of his body was huge and muscly. His cold eyes stared at me as Terran announced, "Here are your two tributes for District 7!"

Quick as a flash, we were hustled onto a train, along with Xavier and Terran. No chance to say goodbye…that was weird. Maybe because we both volunteered, and our parents were already expected to know?

There was one thing that I was sure of, though.

This was the first time in history that both the boy and girl from District 7 had volunteered.

**Mason Takoma – District 11**

I was starving. I mean, really. What kind of rule is it that the District that harvests food gets no food themselves? What kind of a deal is that?

My name is Mason Takoma. I have a very dark complexion, shaggy brown hair, and dark blue eyes. I am 18 years old. I wore blue jeans, brown boots, and a red t-shirt that had the sleeves ripped off. The sun glinted down onto the square, as millions of District 11 residents came for the Reapings. Peacekeepers shuttled around, pointing their guns this way and that. It was menacing.

I spotted our mentor, Merma Bracken, up on the stage. She was smoking a cigarette, waiting for the Reapings to start.

The escort, Jake Estrange, was talking to some Peacekeepers. A minute later, I noticed them dragging a boy into an alley. I could hear his shouts, and guess what had happened next. What had he done?

The electric fence sizzled with power. My friend Peck's shoe string dangled from my hand. A year ago, Peck had disappeared away to the Capitol. I had never heard from him since.

Jake was still talking to Peacekeepers. Who would they kill next?

Merma was checking her fingernails, but then Jake called out for the District's attention.

"I have been informed of a slight change." he said, and then directed our eyes up to a screen. It was playing the District 3 Reapings.

A boy's name was picked, but then another boy volunteered. The second boy was huge…but the first boy argued with him until they got into a fistfight. The escort stopped them, and then said something. Two escorts from District 3 were going to the Games? How would the Capitol react?

Jake was calling for our attention again. It was time to call the names.

"Girls first!" he said. The glass globes shimmered in the heat.

"Rain Ataehu!" shouted Jake. A Hawaiian girl across the way, about 15, lashed out at her friend.

"Volunteer!" she shouted. "Volunteer! You can't leave me!" she shouted again.

Rain was a bit…miffed…in the head. She had short brown hair and cold blue eyes. She wore a slightly loose blue dress. After finishing her rave, she walked up to the stage, glaring at her friend.

"Boys!" said Jake, untouched by emotion.

"I volunteer." I said. Maybe there was a chance of finding Peck at the Capitol. I stepped up to the stage.

"People of District 11, I give you your tributes!" shouted Jake. Then he slipped on a stray piece of paper, and fell into the crowd. People were attacking him! Gunshots rang out. People fell, and the Peacekeepers kept firing, until Jake climbed back up onstage.

How many could be dead?

I counted at least twelve people I knew, all dead. There was the man who had given me the apple the other day…

A Peacekeeper grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me towards the Justice Building. People shouted, but nothing happened. Goodbye District 11.

**Peeta Mellark – District 12**

Wonderful. It was time for the 99th Hunger Games. And I was a mentor, once again. Peacekeepers strolled the streets, looking for trouble. If only the people could avoid provoking them…

I am 39 years old, have straight blonde hair and blue eyes. My son, Ryan, walked next to me on the way to the square. Ryan had short blonde curls and grey eyes. He wore a blue jacket and black pants, along with scrubby black shoes. Where was my daughter, Emily?

I stepped onto the stage, letting Ryan go over to the boys' side. He was only 12. His first Reapings. Could he be picked? I didn't know.

**Ryan Mellark – District 12**

I brushed some coal dust off of my pants. My father was up on the stage, directing people around. I saw our escort, Jax Embers, straighten his jacket and call for people's attention.

I wonder what had ever happened to our old escort, Effie Trinket. I would have to ask Dad.

"Hello, District 12! Welcome to the Reapings for the 99th Annual Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor! Girls first!" Jax straightened his jacket again and walked towards the girls' glass globe. He reached his hand in. You could see the suspense in the air.

One piece of paper seemed to rise into his hand, so Jax lifted his head.

"The female tribute for District 12 is…" I felt like saying 'Drumroll, please.'

"Melanie Sageburn." Melanie…I think I knew her, but I wasn't sure. I looked over to the other side. Melanie was also 12, and had on a dark green dress…but no shoes. So what.

Melanie had long curly black hair, and large sky blue almond shaped eyes. Her face was in extreme shock, but no one volunteered…even though I thought she had a bunch of friends. My father glanced at me.

"Boys." said Jax.

I waited for Jax to painstakingly take forever to get the boy's name. He slowly put it up to his grey eyes…

"Ryan Mellark." Holy…

It was my first year of the Reapings. Bad luck, I guess. But it helped that both my parents were past victors.

I walked up to the stage. Jax smiled. I lowered my gaze.

"District 12, here are your two tributes!" I saw my sister Emily. She walked up to me, and gave me her mockingjay pin. She waved, right before a Peacekeeper led her off stage. Jax motioned for me and Melanie to follow, right into the Justice Building.

**AN:** Yay! Thanks to everyone for giving me their designs…except for Maelle Robins. If you are reading this…check your inbox! Next chapter I have two different perspectives as they watch the recordings of all the tributes. I am not writing the Reapings of Districts 2, 5, 6, or 9. But people from those Districts still play parts in the story (some of them major parts).

Here is the riddle. There is no reference in this chapter.

"Jack, Josh, Jamie, and Andrew are going to the indoor pool. They intend to stay half of their day there. Josh brings some towels, Jack brings sandwiches, Jamie brings some comics for them to read, and Andrew brings some drinks in a cooler. Two hours later, Jamie is found dead in the sauna, a large hole in his chest and a small puddle of bloody water next to him. No murder weapon was found, but it was either Jack, Josh, or Andrew. Which one killed Jamie, and how?" Tricky


	4. Tributes Three: Speeding Along

**AN:** Remember people, answer the riddles and think about the references! I might be opening for this story soon, a bit inspired by FinnickLover4Ever. Awesome stories!

Riddle answer: I gave points to anybody who answered Andrew. Here's what happened – Andrew brought a large icicle in his cooler. He stole Josh's towels and stabbed Jamie while he was in the sauna. He cleaned up all the blood with the towels and dropped the icicle on the floor of the sauna, where it quickly melted and mixed with the blood on it. Good guesses, though!

Sponsor points: Marcus Lain (10), Flare Heartforth (10), Conan Becker (5), Ruby Todem (5), Atlas Sydai (10), Ryder Josker (0), Heron Rockon (0), Safin S. Bayview (0), Swan Tindle (0), Thor Vang (0), Daniella Lamonde (0), Alexander Van Der Donck (5), Scarlet Saracen (10), Rupert Stevens (5), Anna Garys (5), Prophet Thenidiel (5), Bea A. Dechers (5), Cain Ceders (5), Penelope Young (5), Cannan Thrush (10), Swift Jenssen (0), Mason Takoma (10), Rain Ataehu (10), Ryan Mellark (5), Melanie Sageburn (0). Time to watch the Reapings through Rupert's, Cannan's, and Thor's eyes.

**Rupert Stevens – Train to the Capitol**

I had never looked upon so much food at one time in my life. My mentor, Xavier, sat in a chair across from me, next to Terran and Anna.

"So…" I said. "Any strategy, or should I just go and randomly kill people?" Anna looked like she felt like laughing.

"Two tough ones from District 7." said Xavier. "Never thought it would happen."

"Hey, old man!" I shouted. Terran stared at me. "Answer the question."

Quick as a flash, Xavier picked up his knife and threw it at me. I ducked. The knife stuck into the wall, going through my shirt. "Damn. I missed." said Xavier. "Nice reflexes, though." Anna and I stared at him. Terran acted like this was the same deal every year.

"Don't worry, Rupert. Xavier and I will help you with the Chariots, the interviews, and preparing for killing everyone else." said Terran. "I bet you can't wait to meet your stylists."

"I guess." I said. I picked up my fork and dug into what looked like a potato loaded with cheese, vegetables, pepper, and many other things. Fish, maybe?

The food just kept coming. Loads of different kinds of meat, fruit, fish, and veggies were piled on. I got too full. So did Anna, and we both sat back in our seats. The train rumbled along. Xavier kept eating, though. Terran was looking out the window. I joined him. District 5 was rushing past.

"What do you think of Xavier?" he said.

"He's…unsuspecting." I said, unable to think of a better word.

"And Anna?"

"I know nothing about her." I said.

"That'll change." said Terran. Just then, the Capitol anthem started. The television screen on the opposite end of the car lit up.

"Hello, Panem!" said the announcer. I think his name was Claudius Templesmith. "Time to show you our 99th Hunger Games Reapings!" The screen shifted to District 1. It looked so clean, with everything and everything shining like silver. I bet they never went starving there.

The District 1boy was named Marcus Lain. He jumped up to volunteer, apparently to just be with his girl counterpart. I remembered hearing his last name some years earlier, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

The District 1 girl, Flare Heartforth, volunteered for no apparent reason. She looked menacing, and I could guess she would take quite a few down with her, if she died at all. Then I remembered why District 1 won so often. Finn Yang was the District 1 mentor.

Finn Yang won the Hunger Games 19 years ago. That year, he had massacred 20 tributes in the beginning bloodbath. He was famous for that, as afterwards, only he, the District 2 boy, District 5 girl, and District 11 boy remained. He easily killed the D5 and D11 tributes, and then had a little bit of struggle killing off the massive District 2 boy, but prevailed easily in the end. He was probably the best fighter in the history of the Hunger Games. What I didn't understand is why that many people stayed around at the cornucopia, and how the District 5 girl survived that.

The District 2 boy was massive. His name was Conan Becker. Rordan Weeks, a Career that won the year before Finn, was standing beside him. Conan lunged forward to volunteer, obviously eager to kill other tributes. A clever glint shined in his eyes.

The District 2 girl was small and nothing compared to Conan. Ruby Todem, as her name was, was chosen, and was obviously not a Career. She wore a red dress, and I thought I saw a glint of a tear in her eye.

Like I had learned, there were two District 3 boys. A huge guy named Atlas Sydai (aptly named) and a slightly smaller one named Ryder Josker. Ryder had been picked, purely by chance, but Atlas wanted to go. Ryder argued because he wanted to go with the girl, Heron, but Atlas acted like Conan…eager to kill. In the end, they had a fight and both ended up going. I wondered how to Capitol would react to that.

The District 3 girl, Heron Rockon, was very surprised that the two guys were fighting over her (or so she thought, anyway). She waited shyly, and looked on in surprise, as the two guys dealt it out.

The District 4 boy would be hard to kill. Safin S. Bayview looked like an excellent swimmer, and seeing as how the last few years had been desert, forest, cliffs, and then jungle, I guessed this year would be based on islands. Pretty easy for him.

The District 4 girl wasn't a Career either. Her name was Swan Tindle, and she wore an excellent brown dress, even though it had a few holes.

The District 5 boy, Thor Vang, volunteers because his brother, Tarin, is chosen. Thor is tall and skinny, but I wonder if he is stronger than he looks. I'm not keeping my hopes up for any alliances, though.

Daniella Lamonde, the District 5 girl, looked like she was in love with Thor, but I don't know if the feeling was mutual. She was chosen, unlike Thor, and looked vulnerable…maybe I would make an alliance with them, but only so I would have a helping hand and an easy opponent at the end.

The District 6 guy, Alexander Van Der Donck, looked tough. His eyes were dark gold, and had hair that was brown with gold highlights. He could easily be from the Capitol. He looked like the most famous guy from his District, so when he was picked, people shouted and cried…it looked like all of District 6 was mourning a loss. Like he had even died yet.

The District 6 girl was named Scarlet Saracen is chosen quickly, and it doesn't look like she was ready for it. I recognized the last name…I guess Seth Saracen, a tribute a few years back, had been her brother.

Soon, I was onscreen. I started to get bored, and then…very slowly, I started to fall asleep. My head hit the table, knocking me out. Xavier laughed.

**Cannan Thrush – Train to the Capitol**

We had stopped so many times, I had guessed we must have gotten a broken train. Swift sat next to me, smiling. I could tell she liked me. Ellie sat across from us, obviously not speaking a word. Remy Jordan, our mentor, stared sullenly at the big meal in front of us. I wasn't very hungry, but I never ate much at home, so I took advantage of all the food. It was delicious, especially this thing Remy called boar.

"Are you excited?" asked Remy. Her teeth shined…she actually didn't look like most drunk addict mentors I've seen in past Games. "You have a strategy at all?" she said.

"Well…" said Swift. "I can't kill Cannan."

"And why's that?" I said, smiling.

"Because…I'm in love with you." I knew she couldn't resist telling me. I wondered if this would be her strategy in the interview. I had no idea.

Just then, the Capitol anthem blared and the Reapings showed up on the television. I guess I didn't feel very romantic, so I put my attention on the screen. Swift moved her chair towards me.

Districts flashed by. I noticed a few…select…tributes – the District 2 boy lunging up to get into the Games, the thin but strong District 5 boy, the famous District 6 boy, both tributes from 7 that lunge forward to volunteer.

Soon, District 8 comes up on the screen. Textiles, I think their industry is. Not much help in the Games. They should have some sort of Training Center in every District…but then that wouldn't have helped during the 75th Hunger Games…but that was for another time.

The boy from District 8 I can tell right away is possibly the worst person they could've picked. With his pale face, really long hair, and…some condition that causes one of his eyes to be black, I can guess he won't last long in the arena.

The same thing can't be said for the District 8 girl, Bea Dechers, who reminds me of the District 5 tribute, Ellea, in the same Games that made Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark famous. The same hair…it was weird.

The District 9 boy shared the same fate as the District 8 boy. His name was Cain Ceders. He was weak and thin, with brown hair and eyes. I could tell he would die in the bloodbath. Would I survive? And what about Swift?

Penelope Young, the District 9 girl, looked better than her counterpart. She was small, and had blonde hair tied into a ponytail. She looked like she would put up a bit of a fight…until one of the Careers got to her.

I was shown. As I looked over at Swift on the screen, I see that she had been staring at me the whole time. First Swift is chosen, and then I am. We both walk on stage. I see her smile. But I can't confess to her that I think I've fallen head over heels for someone else…

The District 11 boy, Mason Takoma, is shown. He looks okay, maybe a bit of competition. But then, there's his female counterpart. She is a wreck, screaming at her friend, maybe addicted to something. But I can tell it's not morphling. The escort falls into the crowd, but suddenly the film is cut short.

I can't help laughing as Ryan Mellark is chosen. Their family must have some kind of bad luck. I wonder if he'll be a mix between his father and mother. Will he kill us all in the end?

The girl is Melanie Sageburn, and then the Capitol seal comes on screen. I push my chair back and walk towards my cabin. I can't help wondering about the Chariot outfits we'll have this year. Will I be dressed up as a cow?

I pull on my light blue bedclothes, then crawl into the soft Capitol bed. I'm going to hate getting used to this, only to get thrown into the arena right afterwards.

**Thor Vang – Remake Center**

"Frickin'…ow." I said under my breath as Jezebelle, my stylists, pulls a piece of wax off of my chin. I have to be 'clean-shaven' for my appearance on the Chariot. I don't see why they can't just shave instead of…waxing. I can't help thinking of my tribute, Daniella, who will be stripped of everything…ugh. This is the Capitol.

Jezebelle dunks my head into a bin containing some blue liquid. It stings my nostrils and chin. My hair is soaking wet when she pulls me back onto my chair.

"So." she says. "Do you have any amazing ideas for your outfit?" I didn't. I was probably going to be the usual guy with the big nerdy glasses and lab coat and beaker. Not many choices for the Scientific District. Lucky District 1 can dress up as anything they want, from gold to silver to diamonds to rubies to emeralds. Spoiled, rotten Capitol. At least Jezebelle is a little bit nice. I wonder how Daniella is getting along with her stylist, Axton. Weird name…  
I hear the buzzing of a razor somewhere in the distance. Probably some other tribute robbed of the only reminders of their District.  
My hair is combed while a cut on my arm is stitched up. Ugh, I wish I could just get to the Games already.

First, I put on a black shirt and pants, and then a lab coat and glasses (no surprise there). But then, maybe, just for once, Jezebelle has something that could kick up the crowd. She does.

I am handed something that looks like a gun.

"What…is this?" I ask.

Jezebelle pulls on the trigger. Small lights fly into the air, making a D and a 5.

Wow.

Daniella's outfit is slightly different. She has on a black unitard with a lab coat and glasses, and also has glow-in-the-dark beakers etched into her outfit. She is also handed a small light-gun. We are supposed to shoot them up into the air. I only hope Jezebelle and Axton consulted with the Capitol before doing this, or else we will be probably shot as soon as they see the guns.

Our chariot is decorated with science equations and beakers and…mushroom clouds. Same as usual. I think.

Daniella leans against me, trying to keep her balance. I hold the gun, slightly nervous. Would District 5 actually make an impact this year? Who could know…this is the Capitol. And in the Capitol, nothing is the same. I can ever hear another tribute laughing and saying "You know what I need? I need a sponsor!" More laughing. I wonder who it is.

**AN:** Hope you liked the end of the Reapings! I might need to have someone sponsor tributes with zero points, or else there is no possibility that tribute will make it to the end! Obvious reference in this chapter. Now, let's see if you guys can get the riddle!

"A man makes a bet that he can get into a locked safe guarded by a man and replace the ice cubes in a cup with ginger ale. The bet is agreed on and the guard stands in front of the safe for an hour. When the hour is up, he goes and gets the man who made the bet and opens up the safe. There are no more ice cubes, but instead there is ginger ale! How is this possible?"


	5. Chariots One: Fights and Poison

**AN:** I am SO sorry for the huge delay, and I have no excuse. Forgive, and read the chapter, okay?

**Riddle Answer:** Ice cubes are made of ginger ale. I think most people got it.

**Reference:** Congratulations spindleberried! The fight on the train was a reference to the original Hunger Games! Come one, people. Sponsor points are now on the first chapter! Sorry for changing Mason's outfit, but I didn't think a three-piece suit related very much to agriculture...

**Rain Ataehu – Remake Center**

I want to kill myself, get it over with. I know I won't survive in the Games. I lashed out at my best friend...everyone hates me. There's no point. I see that bumbling fool, Mason, get onto our chariot, which is the splitting image of a giant...corn cob. He's dressed as some kind of weed, I think. I have no idea what I am. I have some spiky things on my sides, and I got splattered in yellowish paint. There's also a spiky green cap.

I think I might be some exotic fruit. I watch the windup mouse toy in my hand go round and round. I stare at the scars on my arms. I can't believe I got myself into this.

I hear what I guess are the careers way in front. I can hear that Safin guy talking about sponsors. The District 5 guy has some cool confetti gun thing...damn him. Me and Mason are so ugly. Well, not him. I actually kind of like him...but don't tell anyone I said that.

I hear the announcer guy's voice. I can never remember his name. Claudius something, I think.

The District 1 chariot jolts forward. It's covered in diamond, glitter, rubies, gold, and silver, as usual. The lovesick Marcus is holding Flare up. Both of them are insane.

District 2's chariot has a bunch of weird spiky things on it. It drags a chain behind it, and looks like it might blow up at any minute...although, even if it did, I don't think Conan would be injured at all. He's a giant killing machine.

"Are you ready?" asks Mason. I gulp and nod my head. I think District 3 and 4 are fighting ahead. I can't really see from where I am, and the spiky hat is really heavy.

"How did this start?" I asked suddenly. Mason glanced at me.

"We all know the story." he said.

"Yea, but how long will we go on for. We all know President Snow has a whole box full of Quarter Quell ideas, and how far will we go? The thousandth Hunger Games? The millionth?"

"It can't last for that long." said Mason. "I don't even think Panem will still be around in a million years."

"Why do you say that?" I questioned.

"You know how there used to be a country called North America here? Well, a giant meteor obliterated the Earth. So what if another one comes? Then Panem will be destroyed, maybe sink under the ocean or something."

"You're right." I replied. "I wonder what the people who lived here before where like."

"I've heard that their whole country was like the Capital."

"No way! That's impossible. Where would they get all their supplies from?"

"Other countries, I guess." I hear a horn. It's time for us to leave. In all the rush, I drop my grandmother's mouse. My eyes tear up and Mason puts a hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay." he says.

**Flare Heartforth – Remake Center**

This is amazing. Exhilarating. I never believed I would make it to the Capital. I have a wonderful dress made of diamonds, and a...slightly guy who is obsessed with me. It's great.

Some things have been bad, though. I just got all the hair ripped off my body. Safin S. Bayview is having a fight with Atlas Sydai. It's fun to watch.

"Shut up, you arrogant son of a bitch!" yelled Atlas.

"I'm not arrogant," said Safin. "You're just pissed."

"Oh, really? Who's the one weeping about a girl?" Safin didn't really have a reaction, but he stopped talking for a second.

"I'm not the one who had a fight because I wanted to go! I saw you causing a ruckus on that stage. I would say it was rather funny."

"Shut the fuck up!" Yelled Atlas. He ripped a beeping circuit off of his costume and threw on the ground, stepping on it. "You're dead in the Games, Safin!"

Safin shrugged and climbed onto his chariot.

"Adios!" yelled Atlas as the whistle called. My chariot started forward, and I was temporarily blinded by the bright lights of the Capitol...

It was amazing. Brights lights flashed and blinded me. I had to avert my eyes because the strength of the flare was just too bright. Like myself, I thought. People take pictures, and I can hear the announcer's voice in the background.

"Please welcome District 1! Flare Heartforth and Marcus Lain!" Marcus pumped his fists in the air, and the crowd loved it. I was having none of it. On top of that, every time he raised his arms I could tell that either he didn't use deodorant or that was a really hot suit.

On instinct, I blew a kiss at the crowd. Citizens cheered, and that was when I decided I could maybe have a little fun for the time being.

**Bea Dechers – Remake Center**

After witnessing a fun fight between the District 3 and 4 guys, it was time to get moving and enter the Capital. I noticed Prophet standing next to me, wearing what I thought was an awesome costume. There were many different colors of fabric – teal, grey, blue, green, crimson, violet, orange, gold, and many others – overlapping on his shirt, so much that he looked like an exploding rainbow.

Mine was similar, but with just three colors – silver, sapphire, and emerald. My crimson hair was tied in the back, and it corresponded with the colors on my dress. I was hoping to get sponsored, because I had learned that poison could be dropped in the Games. That was like a Godsend to me. My father used to have this little chemical lab, where he would fool around with stuff. That got him killed, but he still taught me a lot of things before I died.

Prophet brought my attention back to the real world, where the crowd was cheering for District 1. I clicked my teeth and glanced backwards. The District 11 guy waved, after which I made a finger gun and shot him in the face. He frowned.

'Dead.' I mouthed. Prophet looked at me.

"What are you doing?" he signaled.

"Um...reducing competition?" I muttered. Prophet smiled and shook his head. "What started this?" I asked.

Prophet got a confused look on his face.

"Why are you mute?" I asked.

"I'm not mute. I just don't talk." I signaled. "I haven't talked for a few years."

"Why?"

"I got...bullied, I guess you could say." I nodded.

"Well, stick by me and we'll make it to the end...no matter how weird of a pair of District partners we are."

I glanced around at some of the weirder pairs: Huge Conan and little Ruby; Ryder, Atlas, and Heron squeezed onto a single chariot; and some others just didn't look right with each other.

"Let's go get some sponsors." I said.

**AN: No references in this chapter. 5 points if you can guess the other 'weird pair' I named. It is not first come first serve! Everyone who answers right gets a point! Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm splitting the Chariot rides into 2 maybe 3 chapters. Tell me how many chapters you want for the chariots!**


	6. Chariots Two: Flipped Over

**AN:** New schedule: Tuesdays, Saturdays, and Thursdays I write this story. I'm working on a book that may get published (!) with four other people, and as usual, points are in the first chapter. I would have accepted Mason and Rain ONLY as the answer for the question. Congratulations to the three people who got it right! Only two POV this chapter. I have also made a POV list – whoever is on it, they will be the only people with POV for the whole story.

**Prophet Thenidiel – Remake Center**

It was time. I sat in the chariot, an explosion of colors all around me. I couldn't get enough of our costumes, and neither could Bea. All she did was point out other tributes' costumes. I smiled. She was cool, although a bit obnoxious.

My hair was now really short, because my stylist had shaved practically all of it off. I ran my hand over my skull. The hair sifted between my fingers. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, and everyone else could now fully see my face. They stared at me like, "Where did he come from? I don't remember seeing him in the Reapings."

The girl from District 9 was staring at me. I could imagine her thinking ugly thoughts about my eye. It's not really that bad...it's just one of my eyes is black. I hate it when people stare.

Our chariot suddenly jolts forward. I glance towards my stylist, a girl named Jem Lazuli. She shows a thumbs up, and I smile. It can't be that bad.

The doors open in front of us. I gasp in utter surprise. The light is bright, and I can hear people shouting, cheering, and screaming. What is going on in there? I hear clapping, and one person shouts, "I love you-" but I am not able to hear the rest as one of the doors hits the side of the...stadium, creating a loud bang. Bea smiles. She is so eager to get out there and show off.

In front of us, Rupert is smiling like a madman, his hand clenched on the safety bar. Anna stands there, silent. Behind, Penelope and Cain are jittery. For once, I am not nervous. I am happy that I will be able to show my family back at District 8 how proud I am to be in the Games...even though I am not. There's no guarantee I will win. I will probably get killed in the bloodbath. I think I'll run from the Cornucopia. If I make it in there, Conan or Rupert will definitely kill me.

I prick my finger on some needle on the chariot. Blood springs from the puncture.

"Ow." I mutter. Bea glances at me. I shut my mouth and signal, "I hurt my finger."

"You can talk! Ha!" she says, grinning. I narrow my eyes. I haven't talked for so long...and all it takes for me to start again is to hurt my finger? I'm going to be screaming in the Games, then.

I drum my fingers on the safety bar of the chariot. Why do they need this thing anyway? It's not like anybody is ever going to fall off.

Finally, our chariot begins to go through the two doors. We are excited. My whole District is going to see me on the television, point, and say, "Wow, there's Prophet."

Bea is overjoyed, and waves to the audience. There are whistles and cheers everywhere. The light is blinding, and the announcer's voice booms against the giant walls of the stadium.

"Introducing Prophet Thenidiel and Bea Dechers of District 8!" I smile and wave. Someone throws some type of flower at me, but it falls short of the chariot. I don't care, because they probably bought a flower for every male tribute. The Capitol residents are rich like that.

Our chariot bumps over the rough ground, and when I look up, I can see some people at this booth-like thing. Maybe they're selecting who they'll sponsor?

"This is great!" I signal to Bea.

"I told you so!" She blows a kiss to the crowd and the cheers increase in volume. Everyone loves her. I am sure she will get sponsors. To improve my chances, I try waving more to the crowd. There is not much improvement. I think, what can I do? As I think, Bea's sponsors are increasing. Right then I did something absolutely, mind-boggling stupid.

**Rupert Stevens – Entryway**

I burst out laughing. Anna looks at me like I'm crazy, and then notices the chariot behind us. It has completely flipped over, the little kid from District 8 falling forwards and breaking one of the axles. Bea and Prophet collapsed on the ground, but as I look back, I feel unbalanced and the chariot wobbles.

"Rupert!" yells Anna, and I quickly grab onto the railing. My foot falls out of the chariot and scrapes along the ground, but the axle doesn't break. I guess our chariot is made out of better materiel. I manage to haul myself back up, but the chariot has stopped moving.

I look back at Prophet and Bea. Bea is up off of the ground, waving, and Prophet is laughing. I curse, because all of this is probably getting them publicity. I feel the urge to go over there and smack his stupid smile off of his face. Thor Vang from District 5 continues to shoot his gun, but nobody pays attention. All eyes are on Bea and Prophet. Prophet takes a bow.

I try to cool down, but I can't. All of our opportunity for sponsors just went out the window. I snort under my breath. My fist clenches the safety bar, and I say, "Let's get this fucking parade moving already."

Some officials have run out onto the field and have managed to turn District 8's chariot back over. I look farther back, and I can see Penelope Young from District 9 looking impatient. For once, I actually think about alliance.

She's weak, but strong enough to hold her own in a fight. I don't know how she handles weapons. She looks about fifteen or fourteen, but she's actually seventeen. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and I have no idea what her outfit is supposed to be. I'm not even going to guess.

Bea hefts up her dress and climbs back on the chariot, Prophet following her. Now I really notice his eye. It's like some octopus squirted ink in his eye and he never washed it off. It'll be fun to see that same face splattered with blood when the Games start...

Anna waves a little, but it is clear that she wants to go up to her room and just be alone. Hmm, maybe she isn't as tough as I thought.

District 12's chariot finally comes into the stadium. It looks absolutely amazing – like a chariot from hell. It has some fake flame keeping it alight, and the whole thing seems to be made out of diamonds and coal. Ryan is in some black skinsuit, on fire, and Melanie has a red skinsuit, on fire as well. I think she has some sort of beak on, but I can't see from here.

My chariot is cast into darkness, and I look ahead. It seems we're at the end. Thor Vang is hand in hand with Daniella Lamonde, Atlas is threatening Safin again, and Marcus follows after Flare like a faithful dog. I chuckle.

**Alexander Van Der Donck – Training Center**

Well, that was a hell of a show. My gold eyes flash with delight as I jump off of the chariot. I land hard, but manage to stand up straight, and a cloud of dust forms around me. Do they ever clean this floor?

Scarlet gingerly climbs out after me. Her white dress ruffles as she steps onto the dirty ground. She looks surprisingly beautiful compared to my red and white doctor's suit. But hey, it's not like I didn't get sponsors.

I looked at the picture of my girlfriend, Elizabeth, that I was holding. All I had to do was win the Games and I would soon be back to her. She would cheer my name as I was on the television, and would everybody in District 6.

I'm kind of popular...well, a lot. I was in the war recently fought with some invaders from this place they used to call Canada. They called it World War III because there were people fighting from all over the globe, and then I fought again in the District War, where Districts 6, 7, and 8 had a bit of a scuffle over food and territory. I was all better now, and I...

Suddenly, my air supply was cut off. I collapsed to my knees, hacking and coughing. Scarlet looked at me, worried. My air soon came back, and I breathed a sign of relief. I never knew when that would happen. I had this scar on my neck from the war, and I had these attacks often.

This would almost certainly cripple me in the Games, so I was going to run to the Cornucopia – I was a fast runner – grab some stuff, and go make a hideout. I could practically last the whole Games without ever seeing another human being. It was that easy.

The last chariot from District 12 was coming in. The giant doors leading out to the Colosseum shut closed, and the whole area was immediately devoid of light. Scarlet made a small squeak.

Some, the overhead lamps came on, and we were bathed in electric light. I looked around, and I saw a large sign displaying the words, "EXIT."

I motion for Scarlet to follow, and I soon end up in the elevator with about six other people. There's Thor and Daniella, Scarlet, Atlas and Heron from District 3, and Mason from District 11. My back is shoved into the metal bar behind me as Atlas jams the button labeled with the number three.

I can feel the elevator rising, and when I look at Heron I can tell she's never ridden anything like this before. She looks queasy, and I try to back up to the wall behind me. I don't want her throwing up all over me.

Some bell rings and the doors open. Heron stumbles out and Atlas slowly follows her. He keeps his hand on the door, but he doesn't notice them closing. The doors smash his fingers, and after the doors close and he escapes with his whole hand, I can hear him cursing.

"Fucking metal doors! Don't they have a damn security system around here? You say we can't throw our bodies out the windows, but you don't protect us from your shit elevators!"

I smile. That guy has such temper problems...but that only means he'll be a hard person to beat.

The elevator stops on 5, and Thor and Daniella walk out, Thor still holding his laser gun. He looks around, waiting for some to come and take it, but no one does. Hmm, I guess it's his souveneir.

One more floor, and then the elevator finally stops at my corridor. Scarlet rushes out and races to the door labeled "Girl." I stare, confused, at the labels, and then shrug and push open the Boy door.

The room looks awesome. There is a huge bed, with comfy pillows and a comforter. I see this panel thing on the wall with this hole in the wall. I experiment by pressing a button, and a steak decorated with some herbs and this delicious sauce comes out of the hole onto a platform, ready to go. I tentatively take a bite. It tastes excellent.

The television is massive, longer than I am tall. I can't believe that Capital residents live like this every day, when people out in the Districts are starving.

There's something called a game console below the television, and I remind myself to check it out later.

There is a huge bathroom, with a massive shower that has panels just like the food thing in the main room. I touch one of the towels, and it feels like hugging a cloud. I laugh – even my great life back in District 6 never could have prepared me for this.

I take a fork and start eating the steak, gazing out over the Capital. The view from the giant glass window is great, and I can see that the Training Center is probably the tallest building here. I see a sign advertising sponsorship, but before I can see anything else, someone knocks on my door.

It's Scarlet.

"We're meeting your father and that escort guy, Fred, downstairs. We supposed to have dinner with them."

I look at the half-eaten steak on the table near my bed. Oh well, they probably have better things downstairs. I scrape the steak into a trash can near the door, and I can hear blades whirring as a vacuum sucks the food down into a dumpster, probably all the way down on the ground floor.

"Ok, I'm coming." I say, as I push open the door to the hallway.

I can't wait for training to start.

**Author's Note:** Well, I'll try to update every two days or so, but I have the TerraNova testing coming up, so I don't know If that will work out. I'm still waiting for characters for Town of Arkh, so anybody who wants to create a character better go! I don't have a riddle, but I have a cute math problem: 9x – 7i is greater than 3(3x – 7u) Solve it if you can! Also, from now on, anyone that reviews will get 5 POINTS! YAY! See ya later!


	7. The Dining Room: Jokes and Sarcasm

**Author's Note:** Well, since I can't put the less than symbol, the answer is I heart u. More POV from Alexander, Penelope Young, and Rain Ataehu this chapter. I got grounded, so there may be a pause in the chapters. Um, is anybody reviewing, because if you don't you won't get points! Just in case, I'll send out a message when the Games start.

**Alexander Van Der Donck – Training Center**

I walk into the elevator with Scarlet. The sides of the small metal room hum with electricity. Scarlet glances at me, and I notice she has already changed into a simple top and jeans, with little blue sneakers. Well, I'm still in my doctor's suit.

I push the button for bottom floor, and I notice there is no button for the floor where we came up from the Colosseum. I guess the only way for the elevator to go down there is if someone presses the button on the garage floor wall.

The bell dings and we are out on the main floor. There is a huge chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. It was ornately decorated with little glass orbs and crystal chains, all illuminated by a large bulb right in the center of the crystal structure. There was a great red rug that extended from where we were to the front door – I guess that's where all the Capital residents come in from.

There are waiters and officials walking all over this floor. There is a help desk and a few stained glass lamps sitting on a table. It is magnificent. I see a door with a nameplate. It is "Dining Room." I motion for Scarlet to follow me, before striding across the crimson rug (memories of spilt blood cross my mind) and I push open the door.

There is a grand dining room, which is absolutely astonishing. More chandeliers are hanging from the ceiling, and there is a great blue rug on the floor. There are about fifty tables, and waiters are walking around serving food. I notice Fred Hallen motioning me over to this big table, where he, my father, my stylist Opal, and Scarlet's mother, who I decide is her stylist.

There is already a great deal of baskets on the table, all filled with different types of rolls. There is one that has little pieces of salty fish baked into it. I notice a type of roll from my District, a square one that is enhanced with vitamins to help us grow. I take one of the rolls and munch into it, rolling the doughy bread around in my mouth.

"So, Alexander, how did you think you did on the chariot?" asks my father, Adrien Van Der Donck, winner of the 72nd Hunger Games. I pick up the fork from the table and roll it around in my hand.

"Pretty good. District 8 got all of the attention, though." I say.

"Did he flip it over on purpose?" asks Scarlet.

"I don't think so." I answer. "I think he just accidentally stepped off of the chariot. Rupert of District 7 almost flipped over his own just looking back at them."

"You're going to have to do better in the interviews." My father says gruffly. I nod my head, and Fred motions for the waiters to come over.

I notice that the one standing in front of me is an African American Avox. He looks angry, but he manages to sustain his madness as I ask him for the same steak I ordered in my room. Moments later he comes back with a plate of the steak and some French fries. I tenderly take a bite, and flavor explodes across my tongue. It is delicious.

Scarlet orders some type of soup, and Fred gets a simple hamburger. He's a Capital resident, so I guess he's sick of all the fancy food. Caroline Saracen has an elaborate salad.

"How is the food?" asks Fred.

"It's okay, better than the food we have at home." Scarlet glances over at me.

"Why? Is the food short is supply?"

"Um…" Fred motions towards some plates piled high with different types of food.

"If you don't like it that much, try some of this. It is called black pudding." There are some brownish black circles on the plate. They look like the bottom of chess pieces, the same shape and size. If he told me what is was, then maybe I would eat it.

"Oh, whatever. Just eat your steak." He pulls back the plate and I continue to cut off pieces of the meat and eat them with the fork.

**Penelope Young – Training Center Conference Room**

Cain Ceders sits next to me at one end of the table, probably bored out of his mind. Jackson Burma, our mentor, scowls at us, while Red, our escort, walks back and forth by the long wooden table. It is varnished and fancy, proof that the Capital has so much more money than the Districts. An elaborate carpet makes my feet feel as if they are standing on top of a cloud.

"Combined, both of you got three sponsors. Only three! One is some shoe company guy, there's the owner of a logging company, and a makeup company. You have only three, while the combined sponsors of Bea and Prophet of District 8 are 35! That is not acceptable!" shouts Jackson.

"Calm down." Mutters Red. "We can always get more sponsors from the training scores and the interviews. It's not over."

"Whatever. Prophet and Bea weren't the only kids who did well. Districts 2, 6, 10, and 12 got a lot of sponsors as well."

"Ok, now, do any of you want to eat?" asks Red.

"No thank you." I say. I got some rolls from the food dispenser in my room and frankly, I'm already full. Cain shakes his head.

"Then let's discuss your strategies. Let's go with you, Cain."

"Well, I think I'm going to run. I can get pretty far away from the Cornucopia and then hide. That's what I think what we're all supposed to do." I look at him questioningly.

"What do you mean?" asks Red.

"Well, I heard another escort talking about the arena. He said if the tributes want to survive, they're going to have to hide. There's going to be a lot of danger in the arena."

"Like what?"

"Um…they said something about new mutts." Red strokes his chin.

"Well, then that should define your strategies. Both of you should get as far away from the Cornucopia as possible, and then find water. Water is the lifeblood of the arena. Without it, you will not survive. Fortunately, there are some arenas that have lots of water, but we don't know what the arena will be like."

"What about the mutts?"

"I don't think they'll go after people who hide. Usually mutts pick off the stragglers, the ones who can't survive, the lone wanderers. It's almost like the Capitol plans to kill them."

"Shut up! Somebody might hear you!" whispered Jackson, but his voice was still pretty loud. Whispering wasn't a natural thing for him.

"What about you, Penelope?" I thought. Cain's information seemed valuable, but I wasn't sure if I would run or not. I leaned back in my chair.

"I think I'll go for the Cornucopia. I'm not sure, though." Red's eyes widen a little bit, but Jackson and Cain showed no surprise.

"What if those mutts get you? You won't have a chance, then."

"Who even knows if there are mutts in the first place. For all you know, Cain, those escorts could have made that up just to scare nosy tributes."

"I'm not nosy!"

"Not nosy? You eavesdropped on them!"

"Ugh, fine, maybe I did. But it was an accident, I promise!"

"Well, I have made my decision. If I run fast to the Cornucopia I'll be able to grab a bunch of supplies and then sprint off. I'm not gonna waste my time. I don't need weapons, either. I'll just outlast all of the other tributes. I'm smart enough to not light a fire in the dark." Jackson chuckled.

"Good for you. I see we have no problems?" I glanced over at some of the other tables, through the small window of the conference room, and noticed the District 11 tributes laughing and joking, but their mentor looked pissed. The boy was playing with the fork, but then the girl started to look sullen. The boy poked her in the face and she laughed. I smiled.

"No problems, sir."

**Rain Ataehu – Training Center Dining Room**

Okay, we were not acting seriously. It wasn't like we were in the Capitol or the Hunger Games anymore; it was all like a dream. Merma was looking at us sternly. Mason was flinging mashed potatoes around on his plate, and I couldn't stop giggling. I looked over and saw the District 9 girl through the conference room window. She was smiling.

I went to wave, but she had already looked back over at her District partner. I glanced at Mason, who was about to eat a forkful of mashed potatoes. I punched him in the stomach. He snorted and almost had the food come out of his nose.

"What was that for?"

"Just to make you laugh." Merma, Mason, and I had already discussed the subject of training and what we would do in the Games, and now we were supposed to finish our food. Mason was trying, but I wasn't being helpful.

Mason's eyes flashed to the scars on my arm. I could tell he wanted to ask why they were there, but he didn't have the courage. Maybe he would ask in the next few days…

I'm not sure that I would be able to ally with Mason. I am hoping to hide somewhere and hope that I don't see his face up in the sky at night. I'd already seen a bunch of tough tributes: Conan, Rupert, Atlas, Safin, and Thor. Even though they weren't huge exercise monsters, they could still easily beat me to a pulp. Conan notices me looking at him, and he cracks his knuckles. I gulp.

Mason starts humming a song, and Merma is steaming. I bet she thinks we're rude. I don't care. I won't be seeing her at all in about four days. I start drumming my fingers on the table along to Mason's tune. Merma can't take it anymore.

"Get out! I don't want to see either of you. Tomorrow we'll talk about training." Districts 6, 7, and 8 snicker, and I sigh and get up from my chair. Mason soon follows, and I am hurried out of the ornate dining room, across the grand red carpet, and towards the elevators. Mason enters first, and I jump in behind him, before his thumb lands on top of the "11" button.

The metal room rushes up to the eleventh floor before I can say a word.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." I say.

"Yeah," he replies. "Tributes can't go into each other's rooms."

"Do you think we should be more serious about this whole thing? I mean, both of us will get killed instantly if we're giggling and joking when the Games start."

"Yeah, that girl Flare will send a spear right through your head."

"Hey, that's not very nice."

"Just kidding." He moves over to touch my arm, but I stop him.

"Goodnight." I walk across the hallway, before silently closing the door. I can imagine Mason standing out in the hallway with a confused look on his face.

I can tell I probably made a fool of myself in the Reapings, screaming and shouting. People must think I'm some crazy psychopath…but then they're the people who get all of the sponsors. Psychopaths are the people like Finn Yang, crazy mass murderers that will kill you in a heartbeat.

I'm surprised to see Mason isn't worried. I hope that he actually cares about the Games, or we won't be together for very long. I hear the door shut in the hallway, and I know that Mason has gone to bed.

I jump into the fluffy, cloud-like bed, remembering the cruel atmosphere of District 11. Then my thoughts go back to Mason and the last thing he's said to me. For some reason it seems like a memorable moment.

"Just kidding."

**Author's Note:** Ugh, I lost the charging cable for my laptop so I've been working on my fanfictions at school during the thirty-minute lunch period. Oh well. Hope you liked it!


	8. Training One: A Smack to the Face

**Author's Note:** I am seriously trying to update faster now, and the Games will have started before we know it. If anybody wants to submit some extra stuff about their character, they better do it soon. We have training, then interviews, then catacombs, and then the Games start. It's getting close. 75th Hunger Games revealed this chapter. Anyway, there will be three Training chapters. Each one will only have one POV. Here's the first.

**Atlas Sydai – Training Center**

Ugh, good morning and all that crap. It may be a bright new day, but my escort doesn't have to come knocking on my door, "congratulating" me for being so enthusiastic last night. All I remember is threatening Safin, and balancing my weight so Ryder doesn't go flying off of the chariot. It was an okay introduction, but frickin' District 8 got all of the glory. Damn Prophet and his little games…

Speaking of games, training is supposed to start today. Not exactly sure what it's going to be like, but it is a time for making alliances and avoiding Careers and other strong individuals. Like me.

I have to say no to any alliance that is offered to me besides my District. I'm gonna try to stay with Ryder and Heron, maybe leaving later on in the Games so I can beat the shit out of Rupert or Safin. Hell, for all I know both of them will die in the bloodbath. But I'm going to need some help in the beginning, so I should stick with them…

I'm just glad I didn't have to share a room with Ryder. He got his own closet-sized room.

My feet dangle over the medium height edge of the bed, almost touching the light, soft black rug that covers the whole floor. It's like if a cloud was solid, and then you walked on top of it. My feet slide into my slippers, and before I know it, I'm up and ready to shove my fist into someone's face.

Brush my teeth and kill the germs. That's what my mother used to say, before her brutal murder at the hands of my father. Oh well, at least he taught me how to kill.

I managed to test out the so-called 'video game console' last night. Just some virtual reality thing that replicates the Hunger Games. Why doesn't the Capitol do that, I think to myself. Everyone would buy the game, and nobody would get hurt by it. But then that wouldn't go along with the Capitol's punishment for the Dark Days. Plus, there's the Quarter Quells…

Hell, I remember seeing a rerun of the 75th Hunger Games. It was brutal. President Snow had possibly picked the sickest card out of the box – the age is reduced from 12-18 to 6-12. Capitol residents were disgusted but intrigued. For once, the twelve year olds were the masters. But the Districts hated it. Their little angels getting brutally murdered on screen because they were too young to figure things out for themselves.

The revolt that followed did not succeed. It ended in a bloody battle that the Capitol won. So we have to worry about what they will do for next year. Hopefully, it's not too bad.

Heron knocks on my door, telling me that it is time to go down to the Training floor. I agree, and look around for something to wear. There's my stuff from the train, but I don't fancy wearing it. My eyes fall on a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans. Perfect.

I kick open the door to the hallway, almost hitting Ryder in the process. Heron looks impatient, and I follow her and Ryder into the elevator. We are probably late, but I don't care. I'm late for most things, so they had better get used to it. The elevator seems to go down for a long time, and then we arrive.

Some forty-or-so woman stands in front of all of the tributes, waiting for all of the Districts to arrive. Mason and Rain from District 11 are missing. Well, if they miss the frickin' training, then it only gets better for me. Killing them will be easy as pie.

Unfortunately, my "good luck" does not last very long. I hear the elevator ding behind me, and Mason and Rain walk out, ready for training.

"Fuck, everyone's here." I mutter under my breath.

"Hello, welcome all to the 99th Hunger Games Training Center. I will be your supervisor. My name is Isolde. Now, before I start explaining, does anybody have any questions?" Daniella slowly raises her hand.

"We can work in groups, right?"

"Yes, you will be able to talk to anybody you like. Anybody else?" Everyone else is silent. No one bothers to raise their hands.

"Ok, good. You may start." I notice Ruby Todem rush for the climbing rope. I have no idea what she's going to do, but I stay and watch while everyone else goes to the stations. Heron and Ryder seem to forget about me. I guess that they will go on training without me.

Ruby eagerly climbs towards the top of the rope, one hand after another. She grips the rope tightly, pieces of straw and the occasional drop of sweat falling to the ground. I realize that she is going up there to hide from Conan. He must be bothering her. I let out a laugh as he starts to talk to her as he swings up the rope very easily.

I notice the alliances around the room. Rain and Mason walk together, and it is the same with Ryder and Heron. Safin, Swan, Flare, Marcus, and Conan seem to be the career group. Rupert obviously has no desire to team up with the Careers, but instead he seems to be following Penelope around. Prophet and Bea try out archery, Anna looks sullen in the corner, and Ryan beats the crap out of a punching bag.

I should get started with something that I don't know how to do. I decide on camouflage – it should be an easy subject. I've seen my little brother hide in my backyard and cover himself in mud and dirt. He will be really hard to find, especially since he lies down in the dirt and puts leaves and plants over himself. I swear that he even moved an anthill onto his chest once.

He's the master of camouflage, and I guess I have learned a few things from him. If I'm going to sneak up on anyone I am going to need the advantage of camouflage. The instructor, Evan, shows me how to make a mixture of ground berries and mud to create this paste, which you are supposed to spread over your skin and then add green steaks to camouflage yourself into a typical forest region. But we still don't know what type of region this will be.

I wonder if they will ever have an arena that is full of water and you have to find a boat to live. They had something like that once, where the whole arena was in really shallow freshwater. It worked greatly for some tributes, but horribly for others. It was voted most dramatic arena in the Capitol.

I stop mixing the berries and mud just in time to see Conan push Ruby off of the rope. She plummets downward and lands straight on top of Cannan Thrush, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's a nice guy, but that won't fare well for him in the Games.

Some Capitol people come in with these sheets. One comes up to me, and I find out I have to draw my "seal." It will be on my shirt and on my packages, and will represent me and my sponsors in the Game. I think about it for a second, and then come up with a good seal. I draw my brother Aaron's robot toy, standing on its head. It looks stupid, comical even, but the Capitol guy accepts it. As soon as he arrived, he leaves.

Ruby manages to pick herself up off of the ground and sign one of the papers for her seal. I try to look over and see what hers is but she is hiding from everyone else. Conan literally smashes the pencil into the paper. I don't think he has very much drawing skills.

"Ha!" he exclaims, handing the paper to the Capitol resident. The girl looks confused for a second, but then leaves. Conan sticks his tongue out at her.

"Dude, stop being so childish." I say. Conan's glance turns to look at me.

"Mind your own business."

"Why do you gotta be such an asshole?" Conan glares at me.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Just that your sorry ass is gonna get whooped in the Games." Before I can do anything, Conan rushes forward and grabs hold of my throat. I struggle, and he actually lifts me up in the air, and I still cannot breathe.

"Stop…" I say, and Conan drops me onto the ground.

"You say that. Even if you train here during the night you'll never be able to match me in a fight." Conan spits on the ground next to me. "I'm disgusted with how weak all of the people in here are. Some of them don't even care about the damn Games, all they do is hold hands and giggle!" His eyes shift to look at some of the people standing together in the room.

"Let's train, Careers." Says Conan. Swan and Marcus blindly follow, while Safin and Flare are a bit more cautious.

"Who do you think has the worse attitude?" Safin whispers to me. "You or him?"

"Shut up." I say.

The day goes by quick, but I go around to many stations and learn some stuff in archery, more facts about camouflage, some lifting weights, and building shelter. The shelter station is interesting, like you to carve a small house out of a tree, like some guy did in this book where he decides to go live in the mountains. It's an old book, it was written before Panem was created. It gives us an idea of what life was like back then.

The lunch is absolutely delicious. It consists of this delectable ham and swiss cheese sandwich with this crisp green lettuce and toasted French bread. I can see that all of the tributes in the room are enjoying it. You can get whatever you want to drink, so more than half of the tributes order milkshakes after they read the menu. I get a simple glass of pineapple juice. It must cost a fortune to do this thing every year. But then again, the residents of the Capitol are made of money. It is like their purpose in life is to spend money on useless things.

That's what the Hunger Games is. Useless. There's not point. It is just endless murder that gets old super fast, but somehow everybody is still entertained by it. Not like it's entertaining in the first place, anyway. I wipe some crumbs from my mouth and suddenly get up from my chair, moving to sit with Ryder and Heron.

Heron looks up at me when I sit down.

"How do you guys feel about an alliance? I fell that I will need some help in the beginning, and both of you are the prime candidates. I know that you're not used to me being this formal and nice, but I am begging you to ally with me.

"What do we get in return?" Ryder asks.

"Protection. And I won't tell the Careers where you guys are."

"I can tell you wouldn't tell the Careers anything by the way you look at them. You must seriously hate them. But we accept your offer."

"Thank you. And I know what you mean…that Conan guy really is an asshole. I suggest that you guys wait while I go to the Cornucopia for supplies, because I'm stronger, and then meet back up with you guys and leave."

"That doesn't sound like that bad of an idea. Should we do it?" Heron asks Ryder.

"Yeah. Atlas, it's a deal." I smile. That's the first time I can really consider someone a friend. Usually my friends end up wedged between two cars when they make me angry, but these two seem like genuine helpers. Maybe I should stick with them during the whole Games…

As I pondered this, Heron munched on some French fries. Tributes were beginning to filter out back into the training area.

"Should we get going?" asks Ryder.

"Yeah. There's still a lot to prepare for." I reply, before walking through the door to the training area. Something smacks me in the face, and two people stand over me laughing. I can make out blond hair and black eyes, while the other one is laughing hysterically. The Careers no doubt.

For once, I actually have trouble getting up.

**Author's Note:** If you can tell me who one of the assailants was, then you get 5 points. Tell me both and you get 10! Like I said, the updating will be more frequent, so review!


	9. Training Two: Alliance and Attraction

**Author's Note:** Well, the two people were Marcus and Conan. Trying to update more, but I still don't have my computer charger, so who knows what will happen. This chapter features…Safin S. Bayview! And there might be a *tiny* bit of romance. Also has some parts from Anna Garys.

**Safin S. Bayview – Training Center**

Well, it was the second day of training, and I have to say everything was going pretty well. I guess I was now part of the Careers, but I knew that I would eventually ditch them, probably stabbing them all in the back as I go. Marcus and Swan aren't your typical Careers, I think they're just in to get protection from Conan. Flare is pretty competitive, and I have a feeling that she could even take down Conan if she wanted to.

A lot of alliances were made yesterday. Surprisingly, after her defeat by Conan, Ruby made an alliance with Cain Ceders, the boy from District 9. Maybe they thought they would work together to stay alive. Too bad that Ruby was one of Conan's primary targets.

I stood in front of a red punching bag. The side of it wasn't stitched very well, and a little bit of sand leaked out every single time I punched the bag. I didn't have much to do. Training wasn't fun anymore. I couldn't wait to get into the viewing room with the Gamemakers.

Punching was all that was going through my mind right now. I had no intention of ditching Conan's group and joining someone else, but I did notice about four people that were in no group whatsoever. Surprisingly, they all had their strengths, especially Alexander, but he seemed to be alone. I wonder what he would do when the Games started.

My fist struck the punching bag, creating a small cloud of dust from the sand. Ruby was staring at me, wondering if I would blow up the damn thing just by punching it. Dust flew from my fists, getting into my face. I stopped punching and started to cough.

Ruby went on her way, and I moved to a new station.

Next to Anna now, I was practicing archery. I wasn't that good of a shot, but I could still hit the target. Anna pulled back her bowstring all the way to her shoulder, and let go. The arrow flew through the air and embedded itself _right in the center_ of the target. She pulled out another arrow and hit right next to her first. Why wasn't she a Career?

I could guess why. She wasn't heartless. Most Careers were. If they happened upon someone in the forest, they would kill the tribute instantly. Anna wasn't heartless. I'd seen her cry before, during the chariots, and I knew she couldn't be that mean.

Anna glanced over at me with a smirk as I barely hit the target, right on the left edge. I looked back at her, but she never acknowledged looking over. I wondered…

My eardrum throbbed as I heard Conan yelling at Atlas again. I cursed again. If they kept this up, who knew what would happen during the interviews, where they would be watching each other brag about themselves.

I sighed, when Isolde called everyone for dinner. The rest of the day would just rush by, until I fell straight onto my bed. Lying on my back, I looked out the window. The stars were beautiful tonight. I thought I saw some flash in the sky, and I got out of bed to look closer. I glanced down to see the Capital at night.

"Wow…" I muttered. The view was absolutely amazing. The Capital was pretty quiet at night, but the lights would blind me if I left the shades open. As I rested there, staring out the window, I heard a knock at the door.

I thought for a second. It was almost ten at night. Who would come this late?

I jogged over to the door and opened it. Nobody was there. I looked out into the hallway to see the elevator doors closing. I thought I saw blonde hair…

"Who…" I muttered. Whoever it was had disappeared, the elevator doors closing and putting them out of view. I racked my mind. "Anna?"

I leaned out of the door…and then remembered I had only my boxers on. A bit embarrassed but glad that nobody had seen me, I rushed back in the room.

Two minutes later I was back out in the hallway. I walked up to the elevator, but then stopped myself. What was I doing? Maybe my escort was checking so see if I was awake? Probably not, but who knew?

I had seen the elevator display – it had gone up. It wouldn't be someone from the Capital. It was another tribute. Climbing into the elevator, my finger pushed down on the button for floor seven. I rubbed the back of my head. Would I do something awkward? Oh, what was I doing out of my room in the first place?

I looked around the small, cramped space. The Capital decked out their whole hotel, but they seemed to have forgotten the elevator. The elevator was not really decorated, but I had only just noticed it now because I wasn't rushing to get anywhere else. I saw a few really old posters on the wall behind me. At further investigation, I realized these posters were not from Panem. They were from the civilization that had existed before…

The bell dinged and both of the large steel doors opened wide, and I was given a grand view of the hallway. I gingerly stepped out, brushing off my jacket and looking for any spots or stains. I stood there for a second and nearly turned back to the elevator, but I stopped myself. What was I going to say? Open the door and shout, "I like you!"?

I realized I'd quietly said that aloud and backed up against the wall. I covered my mouth with one hand as I regained my composure and walked over towards the door that was labeled "Girl."

**Anna Garys – Floor 7 Training Center, "Girl"**

Ooh, what was I thinking. I caught him looking at me during training , and I thought I had enough courage…oh, no matter how tough I looked, I was not on the inside. Just a regular girl that's gotten muscles from lifting wood around. Nothing amazing or showy. Just your average District 7 girl.

I laid back on the bed in shorts that went down to my knees and a black t-shirt. My light blonde hair fell to my shoulders and I stared at the door, willing for it not to open. If someone came up and knocked at that door…

There were two knocks. There was a silence, and then another. I cursed under my breath.

"Ok, nothing to it." I thought to myself. "It's probably not even him." But who else would come to another tribute's room this late?

I opened the door, almost hitting Safin in the face. I stood there with my mouth open, stupid as I was. Safin stared back, before blinking and managing to say something.

"Did…you knock on my door?" He asked. My lips managed to make a slight smile.

"Um, yeah."

"I…can I talk to you?" Safin straightened up – he seemed to become himself again. Only if I could do that.

"Yeah. Sure."

"You know, I'm not expecting to win the Games. I want to get far, but the odds are stacked against everyone. Even Conan has someone who could easily beat him." I wondered who that was. "And the thing is, I'm not so sure about being part of the Careers anymore. Conan is an asshole, and, well, maybe after the first day we could ally."

"What if…what if I joined the Careers? I've been thinking about it." No lie. I didn't want to be all alone in the forest, because someone would come and stab me straight in the back. Safin's face displayed shock for a moment, and then he replied.

"Really? You'd join the Careers?"

"Yeah, I…" Safin accidentally touched my hand. I pretended to ignore it.

"Are you…" We both stopped talking and stared at each other for a second. I averted my eyes.

"We shouldn't be talking this late." I managed to say. "We should be resting. Tomorrow is when we perform."

"Perform?" Safin smiled. He stood there for a second, and then shook my hand.

"Thanks. For the alliance, I mean. Because I really don't like Conan. And I…well…" Safin stammered. I kissed him on the cheek. He looked back at me, shocked. I blushed.

"Um, yeah. Goodnight." I closed the door and literally jumped into my bed and pulled the covers around my head. Oh, what had I done. He looked really surprised. Was he really just asking for an alliance, not…

I slapped myself and laid my head back. Get a hold of yourself, Anna.

"Well, I'll just see tomorrow. If he was disgusted, he'll stay away. If he wants to talk, he'll talk." I thought. With that resting on my mind, I was quick to lie my head back and fall asleep.

**Safin S. Bayview – Elevator**

Christ! I didn't know what to say…and she kissed me? On the cheek, yes, but still. I needed to sleep on it. She could tell I liked her. I mean, why else would I go to her room in the middle of the freaking night!

I rested back against the bar of the elevator wall. My hand went to my cheek, like she'd slapped me instead of kissed me. Would she avoid me tomorrow? Oh, god, what would I say?

The door opened and I rushed out, almost ramming into Swan, who was walking down the hallway in a sleepy daze. She pushed open the door to the bathroom and stumbled in, causing me to smile. She looked like she was drunk.

I walked into my room and threw my jacket off and quickly changed. I laid back in the bed, the covers beneath me. A gentle breeze blew through the room, and I could see the stars outside. It was peaceful, and before I knew it, I was asleep. Ooh, there were kittens of anticipation jumping around in my stomach.

It was the bright, yellow sun that woke me up. I felt like a vampire sitting in the sun as I covered my eyes and tumbled off of the bed. My jaw hit the floor and I heard a slight crack. My hand flew to my jaw and I cursed in pain. Not a good way to start off the day.

Throughout that morning, I was having bad luck, which convinced me that my conversation with Anna would turn out badly. I spilled toothpaste on the floor and ended up slipping on it, hitting the back of my head on the sink. Going out the door, I forgot the room service tray was on the ground and I tripped over it. The elevator doors closed on my hand as I motioned for Swan to hurry as she made her way out of her room. I stubbed my toe on the carpet (don't ask me how), and they were all out of hot chocolate when I finally made it to the dining room. It was not a good morning.

I glanced over at District 7's table, but Anna wasn't there. I quickly finished my plate and thought about what to do. Well, even though Training didn't start until another hour, I could still go down and practice for my "performance."

As I reached the bottom floor where the stations were, I heard something like someone was unsuccessfully trying to cut a carrot with a knife over and over again. I turned the corner to see Anna hacking away at a straw dummy. She wore a white tank top and jeans, and I couldn't help seeing her bra strap through her shirt. I averted my eyes.

"Hey." She said, noticing me. Looking at her, I could detect the nervousness in her eyes. Was that some impulse move last night?

"About last night…I'm really sorry about that, it's just." I grabbed her arm. She looked back at me.

"You're not being too forward." She grinned.

"Then…"

"Let's just practice. Maybe I'll talk to you later." She smiled and then put a hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks. Thanks for not…getting mad at me."

"Why would I?" I grinned.

"Oh, shut up." She said as she went back to hacking away at the dummy. I smiled again. Maybe I wasn't a goner after all. Today was beginning to be a pretty good day.

**Author's Note:** Well, that was my first attempt at writing a bit of romance. Tell me what you think, but I wasn't sure about myself. If you can't keep track, here's the list of alliances:

Careers (Marcus, Flare, Conan, Safin, Swan, Anna)

(Thor, Daniella, Cannan, Swift)

(Ruby, Scarlet)

(Atlas, Ryder, Heron)

(Mason, Rain)

(Rupert, Penelope)

(Prophet, Bea)

Anybody else is on there own for now. If you own a lone character, and want them to form an alliance, then just PM. Make sure to give me feedback. Next is the interviews, then the catacombs, and then the Games!


	10. Interviews One: Nervousness Abound

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the great reviews, and because of that, I will try to write more romance in the future. Well, I'm not going to write about the performances (sorry), but some of the tribute's scores will be revealed in this chapter. The interviews, like training, will take place over two chapters. The Catacombs will have one chapter, and then the Games start! Took a risk using this POV, but let's see how it goes. I've never used her before.

**Ruby Todem – Training Center**

Well, that went well. I never thought I would be able to throw that spear accurately. Hey, it barely hit the target, but at least it didn't fly into the Gamemakers' faces. I would think that I got points for doing those hurdles and stuff, but who knows.

My long, straight, chocolate hair covered my left eye as I gazed out over the table, at the display screen. They would announce the scores soon enough, but Conan was too busy gloating about how he got all 12 points. I doubt he did. No one ever did.

I heard the Capital anthem and I smiled, ready to see what everyone else got. My feet touched the center bar of the table as I relaxed, leaning back. I wiped my brow with a napkin and stared at the screen.

I guess it was boy and then girl. First came Marcus Lain, grinning like an idiot, but I could tell that when he wasn't talking with Flare he was actually pretty smart, and not lightheaded like he looked. Marcus got an 8.

Flare Heartforth. I noticed her looking at the screen at the nearest table to ours, biting her lip. Her face soon appeared on the screen, a 10 appearing beneath it. Flare almost jumped up in joy.

Conan's face was next. He ended up getting the same as Flare, a 10, and he looked mighty disappointed. Oh, well.

Finally, I was on screen, my picture from the Reaping. I was wearing my outfit I'd gotten from my mother, and you could see the collar in the picture. A 7 appeared below. A 7! I was expected to get lower. I guess I wasn't as bad as I thought after all.

The names went through quickly, and I could only remember a few people. Heron Rockon got an 8, Thor Vang got a 9, Anna Garys got an 8, and Rupert Stevens got a 10. I was disappointed to see most people were getting high scores. Except for Cain. He got a 4.

My fingers drummed on the table. I couldn't wait for tomorrow, which was the interviews. But after that was the Games, and I still wasn't sure if I was prepared or not. I had gotten a good score in training, so I hope I got good sponsors. Soon, everyone was released and able to go back to their rooms. It seemed that a few people went in groups. Hmmm, Safin was walking with Anna.

The elevator was pretty crowded, but I jumped in anyway. The doors closed and you could tell that a lot of feelings were in the air: anticipation, fear, knowing. The doors opened on Floor 2, and I got out. Conan wasn't in the elevator. I stared back at the elevator, while Alexander Van Der Donck managed to make a little wave. I slowly waved to him back. The doors closed.

The door to my room opened easily. Moonlight was streaming in through the wide windows, and my bed was still ruffled up from this morning when I had run downstairs to eat breakfast. It was only two days until the Games. I had needed to get some last minute training done, and for the first time I had managed to get a bullseye in archery. Maybe I was stronger than I thought.

I stared at the ceiling above me as I lay back in my bed. There was evidence of a fire in one corner, some burnt wood could be seen, but the Capital had fixed most of it. It wasn't like Heron's room was going to come down and collapse on top of me.

I had a dream about the bloodbath. Cannan Thursh was to my left, Safin S. Bayview to my right. I was staring at the bright Cornucopia in front of me, but I couldn't see my surroundings. There was the smell of blood in the air as everyone tensed, ready to run. Then I heard an explosion off to my right, right as the starting bell run. A girl screamed, and I heard Conan's deep laughter. I ran for the Cornucopia, but the laugh wouldn't go away. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my back and I flew forward, in time to see Conan grin as he marched towards the Cornucopia.

"Ahh!" I sat up straight in my bed, the covers flying off. I looked out the window, seeing that the sun was struggling to make an appearance. I thought about my dream for a moment, and then pulled on a red t-shirt and jeans, with flip-flops on my feet. It seemed to be a nice day, maybe a bit cold, but I was going to the roof so I could admire the view.

When I arrived, there was already someone up there. It was Prophet, and he leaned on the railing as he looked out over the city. I sighed. It was so peaceful up here.

Prophet noticed me and spun around.

"You're…Ruby, right?" He signaled. I had learned a bit of sign language in school, so I knew what he was saying.

"Yeah. Prophet?" He nodded, and then sighed.

He motioned to the view. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"I know. It's a great city from what I've heard, but we're all trapped in this building. The only person who will get to see it is whoever wins."

"Hmm. I just wish we could take a tour or something before the Games started."

"That would be nice. I wish I could see all the shops." Prophet smiled.

"Well, good luck. Nice meeting you, even though we'll all be killing each other tomorrow."

"Good luck to you, too, although we'd better start to get prepared for the interviews." Prophet grimaced. I walked back to the elevator, and he continued to look out over the city.

**Prophet Thenidiel – Training Center Roof**

Seeing as how I got a 7 yesterday, I'm not too sure how far I'll get. I'm still debating over whether I'll run from the Cornucopia or not. This rambles through my mind as I travel down through the building in the elevator and exit out through the main floor. The morning air is crisp and cool as I walk out the front door. There's a little path here to the stylists' rooms, which connect to the area where we will be given our interview.

I feel famous as I walk down the pathway, as guards watch me closely and people point and smile. I don't feel too special, because it's probably the same for every other tribute. The sliding glass doors open up as I enter my stylist's room. I don't feel too hungry…but that's probably because of the bowl of cereal I ate in my room.

Jem smiles as I enter the room.

"So, are you ready for the Games, Prophet?" I grin and make a small nod, but my smile drops when she brings out this huge kit which will probably rip off all of the skin on my body, cut off my hair, and rip out parts of my fingernails to make me "beautiful."

I was right. First, Jem takes these clippers and begins to take out the front end of my fingernails. I can soon hear other people enter the area, getting ready for their interview.

Time passes very quickly. Before I know it, my hands glow with healthiness and my hair is trimmed short, which actually doesn't look that bad. My face is cleaned, and I am soon forced to take a shower with this yellow foam, which scours all the dirt from my body…along with most of the first layer of skin. The water is hot and relaxing, though, and I almost forget I'm soon to enter an arena in which kids are killed for entertainment.

Jem clips my toenails (which, embarrassingly, I haven't done in a while) and puts these soft, fuzzy, white socks over my feet. I guess it is time to get dressed out for the interview.

First is a plain white t-shirt that goes over my chest. As I put it on I hear a male tribute yell in pain, probably getting the hair ripped off of his arms. I smile, but then frown again when Jem puts these really thin shoes on my feet, which would probably rip in half if I jumped down a wall more than two feet.

I get this great, shiny, black jacket, which probably cost a lot of money for just a one-night use. I see a tag on the inside explaining that the jacket was made in District 8, my home district. I get these pants made out of the same material and my hair is combed to the side. I look in the mirror and I am surprised by how I look.

I look like any normal, fit tribute, a tribute that would last to the end of the Games. I have my eye, but it's not really noticeable, and now that I think about it, will I talk or use sign language in the interview? I've used it for so long, but recently I've began to talk again. There was the time on the chariot, and then in the Reapings when I made a choked sound in my throat. I haven't yelled in pain…yet.

I decide to use sign language in the interview. I'm sure Caesar Flickerman can read sign language, because he's been doing this for 99 straight years! But in the Games, I don't know. It will be rushed, and since I decided to ally with Bea, I don't think she'll have time to look at me when I use sign language, or if we are running away from something and I think of a split-second idea that might save our lives. I'll have to think about that.

A few hours later, everyone seems to have finished up getting ready for the interviews. We are quickly fed dinner, but it is only six o'clock. We still have a bit of time to kill before the interviews, but all we are able to do is sit in this big waiting room, all 25 of us.

Most people look stronger than what they looked like in the Reapings. I see some amazing outfits, but there are some I don't agree with. Bea has this thin, red dress, which has a bit of glitter on it so it sparkles in the light. More showing off of our district.

I see an intercom in the corner, and I know it is almost time for the interviews. Everyone has been preparing for this all day. I turn to Bea, who is staring at the table in front of her. She looks up.

"Nervous?" she asks.

"A bit. You?"

"Nah. I'm confident that we'll do well. But I'm worried about something I heard in the main hall earlier today."

"What?"

"Well, I heard Penelope Young talking to Rupert Stevens. According to her, the Capitol is going to introduce these new mutts into the Games this year."

"New mutts?"

"Yeah. Apparently Cain overheard some residents talking about new danger in the arena: new traps, new design for the arena, and new mutts. And she mentioned something about the 50th Hunger Games."

"The one with 48 tributes?" I remembered watching reruns for that year. The winner of those Games, Haymitch Abernathy, ended up being the first winner for District 12 and the mentor for Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. He disappeared while he was in the Capital during the 80th Games.

"Yeah. She said something about gulls…" The intercom turned on, and pretty much every tribute turned to look at it.

"All tributes, please walk through the sliding glass door, which has now been unlocked. You are free to discuss subjects with your fellow tributes for no more than five minutes, but by then you must be in your seat outside. Good luck." The intercom shut off, and I started to walk towards the sliding glass doors. Trying to ignore the kittens jumping around in my stomach, I looked back at the room again. Tonight, everyone would be nervous. No one would sleep. Fitful dreams would fill the air as we lay to rest.

It is the Hunger Games. It's our destiny.

**Author's Note:** Well, interesting points of view from Ruby and Prophet, and I may decided to continue next chapter with Prophet again. Like I said before, I will send out a last minute notice that the Games are beginning to EVERYONE when I put up the Catacombs chapter. Good luck to everyone's tributes.


	11. Interviews Two: Maddening Your Opponents

**Author's Note:** Been having problems with another user, who probably won't be reviewing this story anymore. Oh well. I wonder why anybody didn't review last chapter? Did I update too quick? Just tell me if I am.

**Prophet Thenidiel – Interviews**

Those kittens just turned into panthers, great cats that make me want to throw up.

All of the tributes slowly walk into the area, waving and smiling at all of the bright, flashing cameras that will be taking our pictures and putting them up on websites and in magazines. We are the center of attention in the Capital.

Before I know it, I am sitting down in a chair, next to Bea and Penelope. They both glance at me, and I can see everyone is very nervous. If I was any more nervous, I'd go screaming down the hall, having been driven mad.

The interviews start very quickly. Flare Heartforth is the first to go up to Caesar Flickerman's spotlight. He greets us all with a toothy grin.

"Welcome, everyone, to the 99th Hunger Games interviews! Tonight we will learn more about our tributes than we ever knew before! Who knows, maybe some of you will be able to win extra sponsors!" He smiles, and I feel so sorry for him and his mustard-yellow hair that I smile.

Flare smiles and sits down on the loveseat, her outfit true to her name. It sparkles with many red crystals that spark up into the air, like a flare of fire. She has on this stunning red makeup and glitter that almost makes her seem like someone she's not.

Flare chats with Caesar, very sneaky and deceptive, avoiding many details about the Games. She admits that she likes Marcus a bit and the audience swoons.

"So, have any other plans?"

"Well, as you know, I am part of the Career group, and hopefully we can stay together to the end." The buzzer rings above her head.

"Well, thank you for your time, Flare. May the odds be ever in your favor!"

"The odds, be ever in MY favor? Ha! I'd say the other tributes need the odds in THEIR favor!" Flare laughs, and her lasting mystery causes the audience to forget about the next person up, Marcus.

Marcus manages to stumble through his interview.

"You're in love with Flare?" Marcus was silent for a bit.

"Ummm...yeah. What he said." Caesar breaks into a grin and claps Marcus on the back. His interview is quickly over and I notice Ruby, the girl I met on the roof, walk up to the stage. Her dress is a magnificent ruby color, but her interview is very forgettable. It can't compare to the interviews of the Careers that surround her.

Conan is threatening and so is Atlas, who literally yells at the audience as he laughs with Caesar. But then he says something that unsettles them.

"Yeah? Well, somebody will be dead before the Games even start." Caesar stares back blankly at him. "Just kidding, okay?" He is rushed off of the stage, which makes me wonder a bit.

Heron's shimmering blue dress stuns everyone. It would probably be better for a District like District 4, but no one cares. Her interview is absolutely exceptional.

"So, Heron. You have two strong guys by your side, and a large amount of training in your favorite subjects. What do you have to say?"

"Caesar, I'm ready for everything. Anything you guys throw at me, I will be ready. Traps, natural disasters, or mutts, I'll survive."

Ryder's interview goes awesome as well, and Swan is ushered on stage. She smiles, in a beautiful white dress that actually makes her look like her namesake.

"How are you, Swan? I hear you're excited about the games!" She laughs.

"Isn't everybody? I mean, this is our chance for our whole District to see us. To be on TV." I can tell she doesn't really mean it, but she seems to be enjoying herself.

"I mean, even though it shouldn't be, this is one of the best times of my life! Imagine, actual food, instead of starving!" Caesar looks a bit uneasy.

"Why would you starve in your District? You have PLENTY of food!" Caesar grins. Swan's mouth opens, but no sound comes up. Before I know it her interview is over and the audience holds their breath as another Career walks onstage.

"Safin! How are you doing?"

"I am great, Caesar. I'm doing fine."

"And what do you mean by that, I might add?"

"Well, I've had good training, I have a good amount of sponsors, and I'm not nervous at all. And there is one other thing..."

"Oh, really? Come on, audience, don't you want to hear what it is?" The audience cheers and whistles, and Safin begins to grin.

"There may be someone here that I like." More cheers break out, and Safin smiles wider. He doesn't even look embarrassed, but I bet he would if his girlfriend shouted out his name. The tributes around me smiled. I could see Anna hide her face. Well, at least they wouldn't humiliate themselves.

I almost yawn, sitting there in the bleak, metal chair. It must be extremely boring for Ryan, who will be the very last person to be interviewed, and by then, Caesar and the audience will barely care anymore. Everyone's excited to see us kill each other in the bloodbath.

Bea rubs her eyes and sits back in the chair, ignoring Rupert who is cracking his knuckles next to her. We're all tired, mostly because all of us were up pretty early. We would need a good night's sleep if we were to be ready for the Games, but the Capital didn't seem to care. All the better if we couldn't pay attention because we were too sleepy when the Games started.

I hear snoring and notice that Cain Ceders is fast asleep. Bea notices as well and almost bursts out laughing as the snoring distracts Caesar and Safin from their interview. I smile.

Soon, the buzzer rings for Safin, and Daniella Lamonde appears. Her interview actually goes fairly well, and I am surprised how funny and confident she can be.

"I see you didn't have an awesome score in training. Why could that be?"

"Well, you see, Caesar, I didn't feel like exerting myself. You know, be ready for the Games!" Caesar smiles.

"Well, are you ready?"

"Hmm. I don't want to kill anybody, but by the end of the Games, District 5 will have a winner." Caesar nods. The buzzer rings and Thor Vang is next. He mostly agrees with Daniella, but is mostly silent, like I probably will be when I get up there.

Scarlet Saracen is a bit nervous and shaky as she makes it to the stage. But once Caesar gets her talking she is bright and cheerful, probably just like her real personality. She mentions some tough times she'd had at home, and how much she admires the Capital. All probably things that her mentor made her say.

"You said early you had a bit of weaknesses. Any comment on that?"

"Well...you're only as strong as your weakness." The audience let that sink in. What, so if you have a HUGE fear of spiders, you also have great strength? Sure.

The audience swoons as Alexander Van Der Donck begins to talk to Caesar. His seems like the longest interview for some reason.

"You do have an important military record, Alexander. You've helped us win two wars!"

"It's nothing, really."

"But what if you weren't here."

"If I wasn't here...I would be there, or possibly over there." Alexander points and the audience laughs. Caesar points to the scar on his neck.

"Is that from your time in the military?"

"When asked how I obtained the scar on my neck I answer truthfully...I fell down and a stick attacked me. Well, I guess you could say he was a little larger than a stick." The audience laughs again. Caesar goes on about Alexander's career a bit more, and then the conversation turns to family.

"Comments on your family?"

"I do love my family, however, it can be very annoying when people are constantly talking about them, when I'm right next to them." Adrian Van Der Donck, Alexander's father, coughs as he watches the interview. The audience laughs yet again.

Next is one of the interviews I've been waiting for: Anna Garys. It seems to be the same with the audience as they stop talking and stare at the stage. Caesar and Anna talk about the Games, Training, and some events back in her District, but, eventually, the conversation turns to relationships.

"So, Anna...you have a boyfriend?" Anna blushes.

"Well, maybe I do, maybe I don't."

"That's not a definite answer, is it?" Caesar asks the crowd, and they yell back their answers. Mostly, they want to know who it is. I glance over at Safin and I can see he's muttering something under his breath...

"Is he in this very room?"

"Yes..." Sound explodes from the audience as they yell to know his name. Safin is sweating a bit now, but then Anna begins to describe her mystery boy's personality. Safin begins to sweat profusely, and then Anna smiles.

"S-"

"BUZZZ!" the buzzer goes off, and Safin lets out a huge sigh and Anna laughs as she is rushed off of the stage. The audience can guess, but this is forgotten as Rupert Stevens climbs up to the couch and sits down next to Caesar. The only memorable quote I can remember is when Caesar asks him about his strategy.

"Strategy? I don't need strategy! Who needs brains when I got BRAWN!" He pumps his fists and the audience cheers. Bea rolls her eyes, and soon enough, she is up on the stage herself.

"Bea A. Dechers. Your initials tell all, don't they. B-A-D. Do you mind if I ask your middle name?"

"It's...Alecea." Bea shudders for some reason, but the interview goes on. For some reason, Bea is unnerved the rest of her talk with Caesar.

Bea steps down, and it takes a bit for me to realize I have to go up to the stage. My feet thud on the floor, my shoes clanking against the steel beaten by feet for the last 99 years. I climb the stairs, glancing back for reassurance. I am given a thumbs up, so I take a deep gulp of air and sit down in front of Caesar.

"Prophet, my man! How are you doing?" I smile and begin to signal him, and he immediately translates so the audience understands. My mind loses track of all the translating and signaling we do, but I am back in focus when our conversation inexplicably turns to death.

"Are you afraid of death, Prophet?"

"Afraid? No. Scared of being picked up by a hovercraft and being turned into a meat or mutt or something like that after my death? Yes." Caesar smiles a bit, and actually translates. I wasn't sure if he would or not.

"And if you're being chased? Are you going to talk? Taunt them while you're fighting?"

"Hmm. I prefer sign language, but I doubt anyone will understand me anyway. I haven't used my voice in years." That's a lie, but I don't say anything.

"Well, I wish you good luck, because our interview is over!" The buzzer goes off and I feel like a great weight has been lifted off of my chest. I've never felt that nervous in my life.

I practically jump down the stairs to my seat, and I lean back and give out a huge sigh. Bea laughs, and my head tilts back. I realize how tired I am, and the rest of the night rushes by in a blur.

I remember Cain's interview, who is very tired and barely manages to say anything at all. There's also Swift, who acts pretty lovesick.

I remember her giggling on stage. Ugh. "I can't believe I'm here, in the Capital, the most romantic place in all of Panem with Cannan. Cannan's face turns redder than a cherry, but I can imagine a huge line for sponsors for both of them.

But the audience doesn't let themselves go until it's Ryan's turn up at bat. They've been waiting for the son of the star-crossed lovers for so long to appear in the games, and what do you know, here he was.

He takes on the mockingjay view of his mother's and father's outfits when they had been in the 74th Hunger Games. It's a jet black suit that glows like an ember, and it almost radiates power as he is interviewed by Caesar. I am too sleepy to pay attention and finally we are led back to the Training Center. It's my last night sleeping here, so I get the most I can out of it.

I drink two cups of hot chocolate and leave out an energy drink for tomorrow, because I can tell I will need it. I randomly press buttons in the shower and I am assaulted with all different types of foam and shampoo, which takes forever to get out of my hair. But afterward the room smells amazing.

It feels like sleeping on air as I drift into my bed. Unfortunately, I totally forget this is my last night sleeping on this majestic cloud. There was no thoughts about tomorrow, no joking with Death. I just flat out fell asleep.

**Author's Note:** Next chapter, I will be sending that message, because I'm kind of wondering where all of you went (excluding MJ and the JJ, zackt, and Fifi). Hope you liked and make sue to review for points! Also, if you don't see something you like in the sponsor prizes list, you can PM me and I'll decide how much points your item will be. See you guys at the Catacombs!


	12. Catacombs: Goodbye, Life

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for the great reviews, and most of you are right, I will probably get a truckload of reviews from next chapter onward. Here's the Catacombs, which reveals the outfits, and what type the arena will be. Also, back in the last chapter, there were three hints to what will happen later in the story, but they're a bit subtle. Anyway, let's see what's happening at the Training Center, shall we? Starring Heron Rockon and Ryan Mellark!

**Heron Rockon – Training Center**

Ouch. The sun was way brighter than I expected it to be. It's like someone put a collection of sun lamps outside my window, so that when I opened the blinds, I'd be blinded myself.

It isn't easy to adjust to the bright light, but I begin to ignore the sun as I prepare for the Games. I took a page from some other people and downed two cups of coffee, just to make sure I wouldn't be sleepy in the arena.

I pull on a navy blue tank top and white shorts. My feet slip easily into my loafers, and I longingly touch my pillow. It was fun living here, but now it was time to go. All of us would leave, probably never coming back...but who knew what they could do next year.

There's a load of talk about this year's Games. There's apparently a lot of changes that are being made this year. There's new traps, new mutts, and one guy I heard was talking about a new weapon. I wondered what that weapon would be. Bringing automatic weapons into the Games would be outrageous, but there must be something good about this new weapon because there's so much hubbub about it.

The sun is away from the clouds now, and there's no doubt that all of the other tributes are waking up. I know that soon enough Atlas and Ryder will come knocking at my door, and I had better be prepared.

I use a dash of perfume, and I go into the bathroom to comb my hair. It's light brown color looks nice as I smile at myself in the mirror. It hangs down to my elbows, still, even though most stylists cut everyone else's hair super short. Oh, well. I guess I'm special.

My dark hazel eyes gaze into the mirror, and I feel like I'm just a regular girl again, before the Reapings had ever happened. My mouth turns into a smile as my hand runs through my hair. It's fun, being in the Capital.

My eyes flash to the platform next to the sink. My token rests there: a golden chain given to me by Hatcher. I still miss him, and everyone else from District 3. After one last glance in the mirror, I check my outfit again and prepare to leave. I hear a hovercraft fly in overhead, probably going to land on the roof.

Some of my hair falls over my eyes, but I don't move it away with my hand. I just stare back into the mirror. Here's the girl from District 3, the one who had two boys fight to go along with her. But that's all she really was. A girl from District 3.

There was a knock at the door, and I immediately knew it was Ryder. I opened the door, and there he was, in all of his grace and glory. He wore a simple hoody and jeans, but his shaggy jet black hair was combed down over his eyes, giving him a sort of smug look.

"So, you're ready, right?" smiled Ryder. I laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." We joke around for a few more minutes until Atlas steps out of his room. His hair has grown out since we've been here, and it looks better than that ugly buzzcut he's always had. He coughs into his hand and looks at us.

"You two lovebirds ready for this?" he asked, coughing again.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure if you are. I would go take a cough drop." Atlas smirked and pulled a bag out of his pocket. It had four or five cough drops inside.

"Great. Well..." Ryder turned back to me.

"Shall we go?"

"I heard the hovercraft, so no doubt they're shipping us out already." muttered Atlas.

"Hey, to them it's entertainment, so try to keep your happiness. We'll definitely lose it in the arena." I'm kind of glad that Atlas joined us. He's a bit of an asshole, and he can be pretty mean, but he's probably a better fighter than both of us.

"Well, let's go." Ryder grabbed my hand and led me to the elevator, and Atlas soon followed us. His eyes flashed with annoyance as Ryder looped his arm through mine. The doors closed, and we were soon on our way to the roof.

The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor to let two more people in: Ryan Mellark and Melanie Sageburn.

Ryan had shorts and a t-shirt on...was he expecting sunny weather. I could guess, because he also was decked out in these flashy sunglasses, which he had probably gotten from his sponsors or his escort.

Wind blew over the roof as the five of us stepped out. Melanie stepped over to the railing, and we followed. This was our last chance to get a view of the Capital. Soon, we would be in a hovercraft and probably on a two hour trip to who knows where. Ryder sighed, his hand on his chin and his eyes focused on the sun in the distance.

"Doesn't seem any different than any other day." said Atlas. "But the Capital would say it's a perfect day for murdering each other." he scowled. Melanie frowned, her eyes almost closed. Before I knew it, she had gone over to the hanging ladder and jumped on. It pulled her up into the hovercraft and that was my last sight of her.

"Well...I guess that's my cue." said Ryan. He looked towards me. "Good luck..." He held out his hand, and I gingerly shook it. Ryder nodded, and Ryan headed for the hovercraft. A moment later, and he had been brought up inside as well, and then they were gone.

Five minutes later another hovercraft arrived, and I said my last farewell to the Capital. Atlas went up first, and then Ryder. I sat there, gazing out at the sun, and then looked again at the hovercraft. Goodbye, Capital. Goodbye, life.

**Ryan Mellark – Hovercraft to the Arena**

Whew, there were panthers jumping around in my stomach as I got on that ladder. I'm better now...but once I'm up at the Cornucopia who knows what will happen. Melanie is staring straight out the window, so I guess she doesn't want to talk. That's okay with me. We never allied, so we don't need to talk.

The pilot has announced that it will be an hour and a half flight, so I sit back and relax, and wonder where they are taking us. Judging by the compass insert in the wall next to me, we're heading north. So much for my father's ruse about tropical islands.

At some point we turn west, but I still have no idea where we are. The hovercraft is extremely fast, so I'd guess we're all the way up at the top of the continent by now. I've seen the maps, and there used to be a country called Canada up here. There was also a region called Alaska to the west...is that where they're taking us?

Some annoying elevator music plays over the speakers, but I don't mind. I can't wait to get to the Catacombs.

My wish is granted an hour and a half later, when the hovercraft touches down on some surface. The windows have been blotted out to prevent us from guess where we are, and then the hovercraft is taken underground, where we are let out.

"Wow." Melanie mutters. There's a huge tunnel that I guess goes in a full circle and in the center must the supports for the Cornucopia. This means that we came in some entrance that will be blocked off when the Games start. Sure enough, after all of the hovercrafts leave, there is a large clanking noise and these giant, black, steel doors close up the tunnel. The color of the doors makes me wonder about the amount of foliage there will be in the arena.

I am ushered into a room off to my left, while Melanie is taken to right, along the tunnel. That's right...the tributes are in random order.

My stylist is waiting for me. Tigra Ellis is her name, and she has this orange-brown hair that hangs to her shoulders. She smiles as I come in.

"You ready, Ryan?" I nod. She points to some cabinets over to her right.

"If you need anything, like food, drink, or some to do before the Games start, they're all right there."

"No thank you, I'm fine." But in reality, I'm not fine. My nerves are jittery and I feel like I'm about to explode. My forehead is hot and my short blond hair is greasy. My grey eyes sweep across the room, back and forth. I must look crazy to Tigra.

"Here, drink some water. Ryan, you're not fine. You're heating up...although that might be a good thing for the arena you're going into..." So I was right. The arena's going to be freezing cold. A lot of people will probably die by cold. I do drink some water though, and I relax a bit. Tigra brings out a box labeled 12B.

"Here's your outfit for the arena. Every tribute has the same outfit, so there's no favorites. First are some thick pants that cover my legs, and they feel nice and warm. They aren't too tight, and then I get a thin, long-sleeve, white shirt, matching the white pants. White boots are next, and so I guess this arena will be filled with snow. Finally, I get a white cap and a white coat, which isn't thick but keeps me pretty warm.

Finally, Tigra inserts this chip right under my skin. It's used to track my vital signs, so they know if I die or not. Tigra asks again if I am ready, but I'm not sure. All I can think about is what will happen if I die. My mother, my father, and Emily will be a wreck. Emily will think that if she had gone with me she could've prevented my death.

My father, Peeta, would blame himself for not training me well. My mother will be a total wreck and try to keep Emily as close to her as possible. She would probably end up like that one girl from District 4, the one that had married Finnick Odair...what was her name? Annie, that's right.

She was dead now, but Finnick was still alive after all these years. Safin reminds me of a really young Finnick for some reason...it's disturbing.

I look at my hands one more time. Tigra makes me pull on these thin gloves, just ones that will keep my hands from freezing over. She asks one more time if I am ready.

"Yeah, I guess. What do I need to do?" Tigra nods and leads me to the back of the room. There's a lot of computer gear and what-not here, but there's also this mini elevator. It's a tube that leads straight up into the ceiling, and goes all the way to the arena. I bite my lip, and then climb inside. Goodbye, Catacombs. Goodbye, life.

**Heron Rockon – Catacombs**

I'm starting to get a little warm inside my coat, but Parden gives me a small smile, before pulling the lever next to the elevator. There's a small kick, but I am soon on a smooth rise up to the arena. My heart must be beating faster than a running cheetah.

"Stop, Heron." I mutter to myself. I regain my composure and look upwards. The sun streams down into the elevator shaft. Soon, the elevator has risen enough for me to see out into the arena.

A little bit of snow swirls around, but doesn't totally block my vision. To my right are Conan, then Cain, and then Anna, and to my right are Safin, Melanie, and then Mason. My fists clench the safety bar, but I know that I must be still. I still remember hearing of the boy from a few years ago, who set off a chain reaction of mines that killed three tributes.

The elevators have risen, and I can see the Cornucopia gleaming brightly in the sunlight. We're surrounded by cliffs, so that the only way to get away from the bloodbath is to jump off of the cliff or follow the river to the west. South are two small peaks, and there's another to the northwest. To the Northeast is a plain. As usual, the Cornucopia is right in the center of the arena.

It seems the only way to get down to the plain and small peak or get up to the bigger peaks is to use the river rocks, which form walkways up the small cliffs.

It looks like you could survive jumping down the cliff, so I think about that...there's a lot of trees below.

I'm so focused on the view that I almost forget the timer has been set. Conan is fiddling with something in his pocket, but I don't mind him.

He says something, but I don't hear him. What I do hear is a bloodcurling scream and a giant explosion to my right, one that almost knocks me off of my feet, just as the timer goes off for the Games to begin. I keep my balance, but some people are already rushing towards the Cornucopia. I curse, and with one more look at the blood that has splattered across the snow, I run towards the gleaming horn.

**Author's Note:** R.I.P. to someone, but I'll let you guess who. 5 points if you get it right. I'm now going to send that message so you'll all be prepared when the Games are posted...on Monday! Yeah, I know it's a week from now, but I have to go to the States for a competition, where I won't be able to write. Read and review, and have a good week!


	13. Bloodbath One: We're Dying

**Author's Note:** Here's the bloodbath. It took me absolutely forever when I first started this story to figure out who will be the champion…and I still haven't decided. I used countless list randomizers and my own thoughts, and I finally came up with who would die (and who would be injured) in the bloodbath. I hope you enjoy, as six tributes die in the bloodbath, including the person blown up by mines. I will be jumping around a bit in this chapter, so try to stay with me. Here we are:

**Anna Garys – The Cornucopia**

I swear that I was suffocating inside my coat when the Games started. It was a glorious view when I entered the arena, but I knew not to spend my time staring at the mountains like Heron was, three spaces to my left. There was absolutely no sound, except for some strange gulls flying overhead. Mutts?

The tributes were thoroughly mixed up, and nobody was next to person they wanted to be. Cain was struggling to keep himself quiet, after all, he was cornered by Conan. I wouldn't do anything to help him though. I saw Safin, left of Heron, and I made a small wave. He didn't seem to see me, as he was focused on the Cornucopia. I decided that's what I should be doing.

Some rabbits bounded across the small, cliff-surrounded plain. They were stark white, camouflaged against the frozen snow. As I stared at the little animals, I noticed motion to my left. It was Conan, who was fiddling around with his coat, trying to get something out of his pocket. What the hell was he doing? We only had about twenty seconds left.

Conan's glove fell from his pocket, and I sucked in a breath of air…

The glove landed straight on his foot, barely avoiding touching down on the snow in front of him. It seemed that Conan also let out a gulp of air, but then he pulled out what he was looking for. It was a small wooden ball, one that could be used in some games, like catch and…oh, no.

"Hey, Cain." We had about ten seconds now. Cain turned, confused, and frowned when he saw the ball in Conan's hand. My face was one of horror, but Conan grinned. "Catch." At the last second, Cain realized what Conan was about to do, but it was too late.

The wooden ball flew through the air and went straight by Cain as he leaped forward…Conan had missed? But now Cain was toppling forwards, and there was nothing that could stop him.

He landed face first on the snow in front of his stand, setting off the mines all around his podium. There was small circle of explosions, and I could hear Cain's bloodcurling scream as the mines absolutely obliterated his body, blowing bone and blood over a wide surface, along with shrapnel from the podium. One small piece of metal lodged itself in my shoulder and I fell backwards.

"NO!" Safin yelled, and stepped forwards. Before his foot stepped down, the starting bell went off. He could have ran for the Cornucopia, but instead he went straight for me. Blood ran from the gash in my shoulder, and I gasped in pain.

"Jesus, what was he thinking?" muttered Safin. He supported me as I climbed up from the ground, and I got a good view of the Cornucopia. I saw one person in the lead: Ryan Mellark, who was literally sprinting for his life, and he was the first person to arrive at the Cornucopia.

He picked up a bow, and I smiled. Just like his mother, I thought…but my smile disappeared when the arrow struck Marcus Lain in the neck and knocked him off of his feet.

**Marcus Lain – The Cornucopia**

Oh, God. My hands clutched at my throat as blood seeped from my wound and stained the snow with a sickly red color. I kept muttering something over and over again as I crawled back towards the podium, away from the Cornucopia. My breath was interrupted by gurgles and choking sounds as my blood ran into my windpipe. I was going to die, and I knew it. If only gifts from sponsors could be dropped now…

I noticed Atlas Sydai out of the corner of my eye. He was the only person left at his podium, excluding Safin S. Bayview and Anna Garys, everyone having fought or fled. He had his glove on, and was furiously digging through the snow at the front of his stand. Was he digging up mines?

"What the hell?" I choked. I'd heard of the District 3 boys in the 74th and 76th Games digging up mines, but I didn't think the Capitol allowed it anymore after the 76th boy was obliterated in a tidal wave almost immediately after he dug them up.

I didn't know what would happen, but Atlas soon pulled out a few grenade-shaped objects, stuffed them in his pockets, and ran towards the Cornucopia. Soon after, Safin left as well for the Cornucopia. Anna was the only person left. I managed to get to my feet and stumbled towards her.

She held her shoulder in pain, staring at the fighting tributes at the Cornucopia, including Safin himself. My booted feet clomped along in the slushy snow. The falling snow was beginning to turn to sleet. Ice splashed across my face and neck, washing the blood down into my clothes.

My long-sleeve shirt was soaked now as I made it to Anna.

"Help." I managed to croak, and she looked at me in surprise.

"Jesus…Marcus. How the hell…" she understood what I wanted. I needed medical supplies quickly, and the only place those were was at the Cornucopia, which I obviously couldn't go near. She began to get up and I did something extremely idiotic. I thanked her…and put a hand on her shoulder.

Anna freaked out and kicked her foot out. It connected with my ankle, which slid and twisted in the wet snow. I spun around and began to fall. The ground rushed towards my face.

"Shit." I thought, as my face collided with the ground. The hard dirt pushed the arrow deeper into my throat, ripping open my windpipe. I began to slide in the snow as I jerked around, drowning in my own blood. To make matters worse, I threw up, and my most recent meal clogged my throat. Blood exploded from my neck.

As Anna watched in horror, I stopped moving, and my head lay back in the snow.

**Atlas Sydai – The Cornucopia**

I grinned in madness as I cut Safin across his thigh. He displayed no emotion and just slashed back, happy to return the favor. Blood spurted from both of our legs, and the sound of pain and swords clashing rang all around us.

After Ryan had killed Marcus, he had just ran towards the waterfall, leaving us to fight for the other weapons – the swords, the spears, the clubs. Safin had abandoned the trident he had found, and was now fighting with a silver longsword. He was well trained, but so was Atlas. Neither of us was gaining the upper hand, and we paid no attention to the rest of the battle.

I knew I was supposed to meet up with Heron and Ryder at the waterfall, but it was too fun fighting. I wanted to kill Safin anyway, the stupid lovebird. The other one, Marcus, was already dead. Better to have no competition later.

Safin's sword clashed against the top of the Cornucopia, leaving him temporarily open. I slashed forwards, but he pulled himself backwards, and all I succeeded in doing was cutting part of his jacket. Safin jumped up on top of a stack of crates, thinking I was too slow to climb up. Was he in for a surprise.

I heaved myself up, blocking his sword strike and hitting him in the ankle with the hilt of my sword. His knee buckled and he ducked as my sword swung where his head had just been. He grinned, and so did I. It was starting to get fun.

We danced around the giant crate we stood upon, which probably contained a huge stock of food. The crate behind me was heavy, filled with some type of wood. Shelter supplies? Did they have hammers and nails this year? I noticed someone below the crate darting in, probably to get a bag and then run away from the Cornucopia. It was Scarlet Saracen. I yelled for her to get out, but while I was distracted, Safin kicked me in the chest and I slammed into the crate, knocking it off of the other box.

It fell straight on top of Scarlet, surely injuring her. I heard her cry of pain, and when I looked down I saw her trapped under the crate, muttering and trying to escape the clutches of the crate. Safin raised his eyebrows, and then pushed me again. I fell on the edge of the crate.

He raised his sword, but mine had fallen to the side. As he pulled it above his head, he faltered. Confused, I looked back. Scarlet was wriggling around in the snow like a worm, but Conan stood above her. He smiled.

"Easy kill." He raised his sword, and Scarlet screamed. She yelled and tried to crawl out, but she was stuck in the snow and mud.

"Help!" she screamed. Conan swung his sword. Scarlet stopped screaming.

Scarlet's decapitated head rolled to the side, and Conan laughed, and evil laugh that surprised me. Holy shit.

Unfortunately, while Conan had killed Scarlet, Safin had gotten away. Conan looked up at me.

"Hmm. I'll let you go. Don't feel like killing stronger people now. Y'know, leave the best for last." I nodded, still a bit confused. He had just executed Scarlet, and here he was giving me advice. As soon as he had appeared, he left. I took a gulp of winter air, and scrambled off of the crate, headed towards the waterfall.

I could see that the crate had also knocked out Mason Takoma, but I paid no attention. His District partner, Rain, was freaking out, running around the Cornucopia, slashing at random people…weird.

Heron and Ryder were in front of me. Heron had a cut above her left eye, probably from a Career, and Ryder was limping. They both had backpacks, and Heron had a sword while Ryder had a quiver of arrows…but no bow. I thought about that. Had Ryan managed to get the only bow?

I put it aside for later, and ran towards Heron and Ryder. Heron motioned for me to hurry up. It was clear that she was severely agitated.

"What the hell were you doing?" she said, pissed.

"I don't know. Just felt like some violence."

"Oh, really? We watched you. Nice job, idiot. Got an innocent girl killed, and now Conan's on your case."

"Hey, he was already on my case. And Scarlet's death? Hello, this is the Hunger Games! People die, Heron. It's the Capitol's form of entertainment. They actually watch this crap for pleasure. They like to see kids murder each other!"

"Done bad-mouthing them? Did you actually get anything while you were there?" I held up my sword, and she looked on expectantly. I didn't do anything, and she looked disappointed.

"That's all you got? We only have some table wafers, a block of cheese, and a box of cookies."

"Well, I got this." I smiled, bringing out the first-aid kit I had snatched from Thor Vang. Heron looked surprised. The ground was stained with blood, and I thought I saw Thor Vang, the same guy I had stolen from, pick up Rain Ataehu by her neck and slam her into the Cornucopia. Whoah. Total change from nice guy to monster.

My eyes shifted left, and they fell on Flare Heartforth, who had been miraculously uninjured during the whole bloodbath. She held something in her hands…a spear. She was looking straight at me.

"What?" I muttered, and Heron turned to me. Flare threw her spear, but it didn't head for me. It headed for Ryder.

"Look out!" I yelled, diving for Ryder.

**Author's Note:** Haha! Cliffhanger! I'll let you guess if he died or not, but just remember, six people die in the bloodbath. Three have been revealed so far: Cain Ceders, Marcus Lain, and Scarlet Saracen. R.I.P. to them and the other three people who have died (or are dying). They will be revealed in the next chapter, along with the general directions of some other tributes. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and make sure to review!


	14. Bloodbath Two: Cannons

**Author's Note: **Well, time for us to see if Ryder died or not. Three more people die this chapter, and some others leave for their respective areas. It seems that each group will own a certain section of the arena. Unfortunately, one group is separated during this chapter and is split up from now on. More pain to come…

**Thor Vang – The Cornucopia**

Blood splatters across my face as Melanie Sageburn digs her knife into my shoulder. I grunt and grab her arm, throwing her from my back. I slam her face into the snow, and push away, falling back. My hair flings ice from the ground as I scrabble around, trying to get back up. Melanie kicks me in the face, but before I can retaliate, she runs off. I curse and stand back up, dark red liquid dripping from my shoulder.

The next few minutes consist of me fighting Conan, getting a kick in the stomach, and making a permanent scar across Swan Tindle's face. Swan smacks me with the butt of her club, and swings it at my head. I duck and pull her feet out from under her, but she slides to the side and I get a face full of snow. When I look back up, I get the wonderful sight of Conan decapitating Scarlet.

Blood runs through the slushy snow as Conan kicks her head to the snow, and then says something to Atlas, who is on top of the crate. Beneath, Mason Takoma moans as blood from Scarlet's body floods into the snow which he is resting in. It almost looks as if he has been killed himself…

Conan comes back, and I know I'm going to have to fight harder this time. His sword clangs against my shortsword, and I manage to get a good kick right in his sweet spot. His eyes go wide and he almost loses his grip on the sword.

His sword is thrusted forwards, and it cuts off the top of my left ear. I fall backwards against the metal horn, and he tries to gut me with the sword. I dive to the right, landing next to the prone Mason. That's when I hear Rain scream.

"You…you killed him!" she screams. Mason is barely conscious, and is not able to answer her. Scarlet's blood surrounds him.

"Oh God, oh God! Mason!" She screams and kicks snow and dirt to the side, and that's when she goes mad. Conan is momentarily distracted, and I am able to get out from the ditch and run towards Daniella, who is biting her fingernails nervously.

"Where's Cannan and Swift?" I ask. "We don't have much time."

"I think they went…oh, I don't know! Do you have a weapon or something?"

"No…give me a second." I hand her my sword, and rush back towards the Cornucopia. I really hope that I don't have to do much of this back-and-forth motion. I fend off an attack from Conan again and rush for the pile of bags that has spilled out of the crate. Snow flies into the air as I skid along the edge of the ditch, and my arm loops around a bag. I smile. That was easy.

A blade suddenly protrudes from my arm, right below the wound to my shoulder.

"Shit! What the…" I turn to see Rain, with a mad look on her face. Her dagger is buried in my arm. I curse again, digging the blade out of my arm and throwing it at her. She yells and tries to stab me again, but this time I am ready. My foot lands a hit on her face, probably breaking a tooth or two. Her head snaps backwards, but she is not dead. She is merely angered further.

Mason tries to say something, but he still can't move himself from under the crate. He would have to be pulled out…

Pushing Rain to the side, I nearly slip in the snow as I try to make it back to Daniella.

"Help." I mutter, but she doesn't hear me, and she is ducking underneath a swing from Bea A. Dechers. Daniella is no match for her, though, and soon she is collapsed on the ground. But Bea doesn't do anything. She seems to notice something else off in the distance, and runs from Daniella. I pick myself up from the snow and run towards her. She clutches my arm as I lift her up off of the dirt.

"Why are you getting yourself into a fight?" I ask. She shrugs and asks if I have the food.

"Yeah, I do. But wouldn't Cannan and Swift have some? They got here pretty quick and left just as fast."

"I don't know." She mutters. I look back at her. Sweat plasters her hair to her forehead, and I smile. Only if..

Blood sprays as a blade erupts from her stomach. Her mouth gapes open as Rain's dagger digs itself deeper into her thin frame. She coughs up blood and falls forwards. Rain is behind her, a wild look on her face.

"What the fuck?"

"You killed him…I kill you." Rain jumps forwards, but I punch her in the face, and she falls, off balance. She just killed Daniella…

No, I'm wrong. Daniella is still alive, just barely. She mutters my name.

"Thor…" I look down. Blood drips from every cut on my body as I lean down. She's in a bad condition. There's nothing I can do to help her…

Rain gets back up, her teeth gnashing together as blood flies from her lips. Her blade cuts across my arm, and Daniella stops talking. I gain my confidence back, and then stare at Rain. My hands clench, and Rain runs at me.

I bat her arm away, and my other arm goes to her throat. She gasps for breath as I lift her up into the air, my arm squeezing her throat. Finally, Mason is able to talk.

"Ra…Rain!" he gurgles, still half-drowning in the slushy snow.

She stops struggling for a second.

"Mason?" she mutters, but I have lost all thought. Both hands are to her throat now, and her own fly to my hands.

"Let go!" she chokes. Something has taken over me. I don't stop until she stops moving. My eyes wide, I drop her. She falls, motionless.

"Oh…"

"Thor…" My eyes flash back to Daniella.

"Daniella…I…"

"There's nothing you can do…just go."

"I know, but…there's bound to be medical supplies in one of those crates."

"You can't fight Conan. Just go…" We both spontaneously lean in for a kiss. It is possibly the best moment of my life. I totally forget about the surrounding violence…but it all comes back to me when her head falls back, dead.

"Oh, god…Daniella." A single tear falls from my eye, but no more. I wipe my nose with my sleeve, and look towards the Cornucopia. People are starting to dissipate, and the blood seeps into the snow and dirt.

I gulp down a breath of arctic air, and sheath my weapon.

"Sorry…" I muttered, before running for the waterfall.

**Heron Rockon – The Waterfall**

"Ryder!"

The spear went straight through Ryder, right below his left shoulder. It ripped out a huge chunk of flesh, and he collapsed against the snow, bleeding out with a horrified look on his face.

"Shit!" Atlas yelled, tearing the sleeve off of his jacket. Blood flowed from Ryder's body, and his face was beginning to become white. Little pieces of flesh fell into the snow as he struggled.

"Calm down!" I shouted, and Ryder stopped moving. His face was deathly white, and he was losing a lot of blood. "Please…"

Atlas wrapped the cloth he had torn from his shirt around Ryder, and he screamed in pain. Heron put a finger to his lips, and Atlas continued to wrap the cloth around. The wound must have stung like fire, and Ryder wasn't containing his pain. The red liquid was staining the snow pink, and Ryder rolled around in it like a wild animal.

Atlas continued to wrap the cloth around Ryder's side, muffling his pain. Ryder began to stop screaming, and I glanced back over at Flare. She was too distracted chasing after Thor.

Blood stained Atlas' makeshift bandage, but it worked. We were able to lift Ryder up without too much pain, but he was still gasping for air and muttering in pain.

"So…" he managed to talk. "Where next?"

"There is no way that you are climbing that waterfall. So I suggest we go down the cliff."

"Down…the water?"

"Yeah…can you make it?"

"I think…"

"Ok. Let's go." We hefted up Ryder, kind of like he was on a stretcher between us. He grunted in pain, but I ignored it. I was not letting Ryder go. He would stay with me, and we both would make it to the end of the Games. What we would do then, I didn't know…but he just had to survive.

I choked down another sob as Ryder's blood dripped from his bandage. He looked up weakly at me, and his stare nearly made me drop him. He looked the same as when I had first met him…all those years ago.

Those thoughts were forced out of my head as Atlas slipped on some gravel in front of me, and before I knew it, Atlas was falling down the waterfall.

"Fuck!" He fell about ten feet, falling into the waterfall and hitting his shin on the rock. He flipped twice and landed in a heap in the pool of water at the bottom.

"Atlas!" I shouted. He couldn't be dead…

There was no blood, so unless he had drowned, then he was still alive. I waited, but he didn't come up. I shouted his name again.

Down below, Atlas surfaced from the watery depths, very well alive. He cussed a blue streak, spraying water and sweat around as he tried to clear the water from his squinting eyes. He coughed and spluttered, trying to climb out of the deep pool of water. After about five tries, he made it.

"Hey! How the hell are we supposed to get down there?" Atlas stared at me, a bewildered look on his face.

"You can try climbing…or you can jump." He said, clutching his shoulder. Blood began to seep from his shin into the water, but he was still able to walk. It must've been just a flesh wound.

I tried easing myself and Ryder into the water, but he told me to stop. As I stared back, he got back onto his feet, yelling in pain. He clutched his rib wound, and then jumped.

"Ryder!" I screamed. He fell straight down, towards Atlas and the deep pool.

Thank God that he did not miss.

He was soon out of the water, still holding his side. The bandage had come off in the water, but a scab was starting to form. It would take a long time to heal, but if we got some medicine, he would be fine…

I took a deep breath and leaped from the high rock.

I can't really describe what it felt like flying through the air. There was this weightless feeling, and it felt like my stomach was about to come out of my mouth. It was a wonderful feeling. The ground began to rush towards me. I smiled.

Wait…the ground.

I hear an almost silent splash, but nothing else, no senses at all.

**Flare Heartforth – The Cornucopia**

My hair has lost its shine. It is now plastered to my forehead as I lie back in the snow, expelling air from my lungs. The battle has been tiring, and my face is glossy with sweat. My arm has a long gash near the wrist, and some of my hair on the left has been cut off.

I get back up, tired and maybe a bit hungry, but I know I won't be killed. I am part of the Career group, so I don't feel threatened. My lips are in a small frown as I look down at Marcus' body, lying in the snow. He was a nice guy, and I hate it that he has died.

I pull the blanket over, but I know his body will be gone once the Capitol is certain that the bloodbath has ended. I've seen a few people die, but I don't know if I killed Ryder with that spear or not. There's no way that I'll know…

Something over at the horn catches my attention. It's…Mason Takoma. He's trying to wriggle out from underneath the horn, when I see that Conan is wandering over to him.

"Stop moving…" I whisper to myself. "There's already been enough deaths…"

Mason almost makes it out before Conan sees him. With a roar of violence, Conan swings his sword across Mason's throat. His skin is opened up to the mountain air and his aorta is exposed. Blood squirts from his neck, his heart still trying to pump blood throughout his body. He has no scream, no exclamation of death.

There's not enough time for him to yell.

Mason collapses to the ground, and a cannon goes off loud in my ears. They're revealing the deaths. I count off on my fingers.

One, two, three, four, five, six. The cannons stop. But there's bound to be injured. I relax, and then I hear something that I don't expect. Another cannon.

"That fast?" I wonder. All of the Careers are here…

There's myself, and then Conan, Safin, Swan, and Anna. I look at them. They're all tired, and Anna and Swan are injured. This is going to be a long Games …

**Author's Note:** R.I.P. Daniella Lamonde, Rain Ataehu, Mason Takoma…and one more person. I'll leave you to guess.


	15. Horrors of the Dark

**Author's Note:** I know I probably frightened you all with the last chapter, but don't worry. Now you'll find out who really "died." Featuring Thor Vang, Alexander Van Der Donck, and Ruby Todem!

**Alexander Van Der Donck – The Waterfall**

My hand throbbed with pain, blood dripping from my fingertips and staining the white ground. The rock was slippery, and I almost fell down towards the pool below. The air was still crisp and cool, but the smell of blood hung about. It was a disgusting smell, worse than three-day old rotten food. Trust me, even I know what that smells like.

My feet were collecting the sweat and slush that dripped off of my prone body, which was huddled under a bush off to the side of the waterfall. Little plants and bugs brushed against my face, poking into my eyes and skin. I whacked them away, staring out at the cold Arctic wasteland.

Flies swam through the air around my head, itching my face and ears. My hand still hurt like hell. It had been impaled on a spear. Flare Heartforth's spear. The small bits of skin drifted between my fingers and fell into the small puddle of blood. Platelets were rushing to my rescue, already beginning to patch up my skin.

My head leaned back and stared up at the sky, where clouds drifted past and the cold air created patterns of clouds in the sky. It was peaceful, but it was nothing like what was going on down here. From what I could hear, the bloodbath was still going on. I hadn't heard any cannons, but I'd heard plenty of screams of pain and anger. I got out of there with a lot of supplies, but I got injured by Flare's spear. I look through the hedges next to me, but then I hear voices. Someone is coming.

Heron and Atlas rush around the bend, half-holding Ryder between them. He has a big chunk of flesh taken out of his chest, below his armpit. Part of the cloth from a shirt is wrapped around it, and then I see that Atlas is missing his sleeve. Guess he's not that much of a selfish bastard after all.

As they are staring down the waterfall, Atlas slips. I wince as he hits a rock on the way down and does a faceplant in the pool. There's a delay before he comes up, but he seems okay. Next, Ryder jumps and goes perfectly into the pool. I envy them a bit, since I have no group, but I don't need one.

Heron is next. She looks nervous, but she finally jumps. Her long hair streams out behind her and a smile falls upon her face. Looking down, I see one of the brownish-colored rocks sticking out from the waterfall. It looks exactly like the ground below, but it is way more slippery. Heron smacks straight into it. I guess she's knocked herself unconscious, as she stops moving as she falls into the waterfall.

I wince again as she nearly falls on her head as she lands in the pool. Ryder shouts her name, and I get out from my hiding place.

"Jeez…" Atlas dives into the pool and retrieves Heron. She still is moving, and Ryder begins to give her CPR. I wonder where he learned that…

Heron still isn't moving, and I begin to think that she's dead. The cannon booms six times, and I keep staring down at Heron. I wait for that last cannon…

It comes, but it seems to startle Heron. _She hasn't died…_

Heron rolls over in the grass, spitting and coughing up water from her lungs.

"What…" Her eyes drift up to where I stand. "Did…"

"Wait, no. I didn't push you or anything. I was just standing here…"

"Alexander, isn't it? Just go away before someone sneaks up on you." She struggles to get up, and then holds her stomach. "I don't feel well…" I close my eyes as she gets sick into the waterfall. I guess I'm not going down that way…

I walk back towards the Cornucopia, only to see the Careers talking near the crates.

"Well, that's six, but there was another cannon afterwards."

"If I had to guess, it would be Melanie Sageburn. I haven't seen her since she attacked Thor, and maybe she fell off the cliff and just now died."

"Anyone could have done that." They seem to be arguing. I hide in the bush, and when I look up I see a package. There's a package drifting down, shrouded in a silver parachute. On the side is a picture of a raven in flight. I slowly moves down towards the Career group, landing in front of Flare Heartforth's feet.

"What the hell?" mutters Swan.

"It's for me." Replies Flare, picking up the box by its silver parachute. She unfolds the parachute and tears it away, and then pops open the clasp and peers inside. She brings out some type of medicine, a syringe.

"What the heck am I supposed to do with this?" she asks to no one in particular.

"I have no idea. You could just keep it." Replies Conan, who shoves his hands in his pockets. Flare shrugs and stuffs the box into her backpack, but not before reading the label.

"It says…blood poisoning."

"That could be useful. You never know if one of us will get injured." Says Swan, helpfully.

"I don't know…" I've heard enough. I sprint away from the bushes before they can see me, and soon I am out of sight and climbing down the cliff.

**Thor Vang – Southeast Forest**

I scream in pain as I claw through my shoulder, scrabbling at the tiny chip which I can feel with the tips of my fingers. I finally get a hold on the stubborn thing, just as I hear the bloodbath cannons. I grin a wide smile and pull the chip from the shoulder, letting out another yell in the process. I look at the small, bloody chip in my palm, and I get a disgusted look on my face.

I hear the cannon, and I am satisfied. I knew that Melanie's attack on my shoulder had loosened the chip that they had given us all at the start of the Games. That thought had made me wonder if removing the chip would make it seem like I was dead. But I also had to hope that the Gamemakers would go along with it…

Blood and other unmentionable things drop from my mutilated shoulder, and I pull a bandage from my backpack, wrapping it around and around my shoulder, tightening the wound. It stings like hell, but I don't let out any more yells.

The pain is almost unbearable, but I continue wrapping the bandage around, hoping the pain will subside. Blood drips from the bandage, but from my hideout in the tree, I can see everything, and nobody is coming.

I grit my teeth as I finish wrapping the bandage, and then I relax. The pain has gotten weaker, but I still hurt and I'm going to for a few days. I lie back against the tree trunk, little scraps of wood falling onto my hair. I brush them off and stand back up on the branch, which tilts a little but does not fall.

My foot slams into the crook of the branch and I jump up, managing to get a hold on the branch above me. I swing around to the adjacent branch and sit there. There's another crook in this branch, perfect for hanging up a place where I can sleep. I think about it for a moment, and then decide I have nothing else to do.

I pull the tarp from my bag, which makes a small ruffling noise, and I string one end up to the branch above me. The other end is attached to the crook, and both ends of the slingshot-like branch. I now have a sort of chair, but it protects most of my body and it won't fall from the tree unless the crook and upper branch lines are cut. My shoulder begins to sting again and I barely manage to haul my blanket from the backpack into the tarp. I rest my head on the branch as my arm throbs, but once again, the pain subsides.

I bring my backpack into the tarp, and begin working to camouflage the bright red backpack and the bright blue tarp. I cover them both with leaves and mud that coats the branches, and I find a leafy branch from above and rip it to bits, covering the tarp. It wasn't that hard to camouflage, and none of my clothes are that bright.

It is starting to get chilly, so I lie back in the tarp and look down at the forest floor. Something catches my attention. The ground is splitting beneath my tree, and the dull light from the afternoon sun is shining on some metal coming out. I haven't realized how fast time has gone by.

A large cage is coming out from the ground. I have no idea what is inside it, but I start to hear barking and growling. There's the sound of fingernails scratching on a chalkboard, like something's claws. I see a flash of purple through the bars.

A timer rises out from the ground, counting out from 100 minutes. Does that mean in 100 minutes that these…things will be released? I still can't tell what they are, and I begin to pray that they can't climb trees. This must be my punishment for ripping the chip from my shoulder. I sit back in the tarp and clench my fists together.

**Ruby Todem – Southeast Forest**

It's easy just wandering the forest as the afternoon sun begins to dip down into the clouds. I settle by a small pond frozen over with ice and bring out a strip of meat from my bag. My forehead is coated with someone else's blood, but as far as I know, I haven't really been injured at all.

I wash the blood and grime from my body as I slip my feet into the cold water. It's not that cold, so there must be some underwater heater hidden below the grass. I push my pack onto a root and lie back, hoping that nobody comes while I'm like this and murders me.

As far as I know, I'm the only person in this part of the forest. Most people went up the cliff, instead of down the waterfall. The only people that I know went down would be Ryan Mellark and Cannan, and I guess that Swift must have been with him. I wonder what has happened to Prophet and his district partner…

Before I know it, I am asleep. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I was tired and I am hidden by shadows. I dream of the bloodbath, literally living it all over again. The gore is intense, and I don't remember seeing that much violence when I was there. I must be dreaming or making this up.

My eyes bolt open as I sit up straight in the middle of the forest. The sun is starting to sink to the horizon, and the light is getting darker. I reach for my bag, and for a minute I think someone has stolen it, but I see I accidentally moved it in my sleep. But when my eyes go to my feet, my throat turns to ice.

Just like my foot. It's a pale bluish color, and I realize I had left it in the water until I had rolled over in my sleep. I gingerly touch it, but I still have some feeling. I try to walk, but it's hard when you only have some sense in your foot. I step on a twig and I feel that as it digs into my skin.

I curse and throw it away, hobbling along with my bag and shoe in hand. I come to a small clearing, where I see a cage in front of me. A timer is displaying two minutes of time, and there's something inside the cage, hiding in the shadows.

"What the hell…" Whatever it is comes forwards. I stare back in shock at dog thing in front of me. It has a build like a giant, muscular dog, but it has a dark purple color. Its tail is long and thin and it rakes along the bars behind it. Its mouth is huge, filled with sharp, deadly teeth and a long, pink tongue. Its whole body is covered in even darker fur and its huge claws make horrible sounds on the metal floor.

"Holy Christ…" I back up, tripping over a branch. My eyes flash back up to the timer. Is this thing going to be released in a minute and a half?

I look around for the nearest tree, which happens to have some structure up in it. I try to climb, but I was never really good at climbing anyways. I bite my lip and continue to try.

**Author's Note:** Another cliffhanger! It wasn't intended this time, but I ended up writing it anyways. This was the first time I used a sponsor gift, so tell me if you want to send your tribute a gift. See ya soon!


	16. Horrors of the Night

**Author's Note:** More death, destruction, and fighting in this chapter, but only one more person will die. This is the second part of the last chapter, and I will reveal everyone who "died" during the first day. Warning, MAJOR violence in the second POV.

**Bea A. Dechers – Mountain Path**

"Agh, damnit!" I shouted as my boot hit a rock and I almost went tumbling down the hill. Prophet raised an eyebrow, but he neglected to say anything. Sunlight streamed in through my newly acquired sunglasses, which I had stolen off of the dead body of Daniella Lamonde. The grass was still poking out from the wet, cold snow, and it was not melting any faster. It was still showering a little, but the blizzard was gone. My stomach rumbled a little, but I willed it to wait until we found a place to rest.

We were now north of the Cornucopia, away from the giant massacre that had undoubtedly occurred at the gleaming horn. Prophet and I were hiking in between the two northern peaks, which was actually a short enough path. It was a bit slippery, but nothing that my boots couldn't handle.

It was now starting to get dark, the animals coming out from their hiding places. The sun was sinking into the horizon, giving the sky a nice orangey color. Prophet carried our only pack, which contained all of our food and supplies. There was also a sleeping bag rolled up inside, but there was only one. There hadn't been enough time to grab another.

"Have you actually seen any place that you like?" signaled Prophet, who was beginning to get tired and a little pissed off. We'd been walking in circles for a while now.

"Nope, sorry. We need to find somewhere that's sheltered, somewhere that can be easily defended, even at night." I replied. My heels dug into the dark, snow covered soil as we hiked through the solemn trail. Sweat begins to cover my forehead, and my boots clomp along in the dirt and ice.

The path is filled with little pieces of gravel that bounce up off of the ground and smack into my face, making me wince. Prophet mutters something as he bumps into something metal with his foot. It's the edge of something shiny that runs along the ground for a whole meter, glinting in the dull sunlight. I instinctively squint my eyes, but I don't need to, due to the sunglasses.

I brush away some leaves from the side, and I see the Capitol seal. Off to the side is a timer, illuminated with bright, red, neon numbers. When I get closer, I also get a glance of the numbers. The timer is counting down from a minute. What could happen in a minute? Did I start this timer? Then that means...

I jump up, backing away from the shiny metal bar that composes part of the structure. "It's a tarp!" Prophet backs away as well, but nothing pops up...we have a minute to get away.

"What is it?" Prophet signals. He pulls away more of the grass...to reveal some sort of cage.

"What the hell?" I asked. Inside, some sort of...creature was prowling around, clawing at the bars. It was a dark purple color, and had a bluish fur that sifted between the bars. Its hair fell over its bright green eyes, eyes that betrayed a past of violence and torture. My hair fell over my own eyes as I leaned over to look at it.

It was like the Big Bad Wolf's nightmare, with absolutely huge teeth, dripping saliva onto the floor of the cage. Any normal person would have been immediately frightened away by it, but we were tributes, not your average Capitol idiot.

Its claws raked along the bars, and I was able to get a look at the sign on the far edge of the cage, stuck to the bars. This creature was apparently called a Rushing Mutt.

The mutt stared through the bars at me, and then I heard a bell. I was dumbstruck for a moment, but then I remembered the timer hidden in the grass.

"Run!" I shouted, and Prophet and I sprinted for the cluster of trees nearest to us. I jumped over logs and climbed under branches, only to come face to face with Alexander Van Der Donck. His face was smeared with mud and his sleeve was blood-stained, but he looked uninjured. He looked at me strangely, obviously having heard my yell. I just rushed past him and didn't glance back until I heard the growl.

The mutt and Alexander were rolling around on the ground, splattering themselves with mud. Out of nowhere, Alexander started coughing and stopped attacking the mutt, clutching his throat. He was having one of his breathing attacks. I thought about helping him when Prophet appeared from the treeline and stabbed his dagger downwards, through the mutt's right eye. I winced, almost imagining the pain. The mutt stopped moving and Alexander laid his head back against the grass. We left him like that, lying next to the dead body of the mutt.

Birds chirped as we made our way through the now dark patch of woods, the sun having lowered past the horizon. We were soon back in the clearing we had seen near the cage. At last, I decided that we would make our camp here in the small, open clearing. We built up the grass so it would be hard to see from the path, and laid out the one sleeping bag Prophet had managed to get.

"Whose is it?" he signaled. I pondered that for a second, before jumping down onto it.

"Mine." I said, smiling. He frowned and reached into the pack, only to bring out a bright yellow blanket, which he threw onto the ground.

"Unfair. I killed the mutt, so I should get it."

"Okay, hero. But I'm staying where I am." He frowned again, reaching for the blanket, but I kicked it away. He bit his lip, and then yanked hard on the sleeping bag below me. I yelped and he pulled the sleeping bag over to the blanket and sat down in the dirt, lying his head against the log near the cage.

I made a sad face, but he didn't budge. I just picked up the blanket and lied down next to him.

"Thanks for killing the mutt, though." he smiled, and he quickly fell asleep. I didn't move from my spot, until I heard the cannon. It was loud and more focused than the others, probably because my mind wasn't thinking about the bloodbath anymore. I looked up in the sky, only to see the Capitol seal. The anthem started to play, and I got comfortable, still staring up at the sky.

First came Cain Ceders, who had exploded gruesomely at the bloodbath. It was his picture from the Reapings, his face frightened and scared. I still remember watching his death.

Second was Marcus Lain, the only Career to have died so far. He was sent to his grave by Ryan Mellark's arrow. Sent in a box back to District 1...

Next came Scarlet Saracen, who had been done a favor by Conan when he decapitated her. She wouldn't have survived long in this hostile environment. Her smile gleamed from her picture, and I started to feel a little sorry for her.

The fourth bloodbath was Daniella Lamonde. I had seen Thor Vang try to protect her from the carnage of battle, but all of his efforts had been in vain. She had been fatally stabbed by Rain Ataehu, who also happened to be the fifth tribute that appeared in the sky.

The final bloodbath was Mason Takoma, who had also died by the hands of Conan, slaughtered under the crate that had trapped him. His picture was also from the Reapings, a worried look on his face.

That was all of the bloodbaths, and I was kind of eager to know who the two others were.

First came Thor Vang, which was a big surprise. I had expected him to live longer, almost making it to the end. He must have gotten in a trap or...what if those mutts had slaughtered him? No, he had died right after the bloodbath. So what had killed him.

The last tribute was projected up into the sky, and it was a bit fuzzy.

"Wait a minute..."

**Thor Vang – Southeast Forest**

Ruby tries to jump up to the nearest branch, but she's not as tall as I am, so it doesn't work. The mutts are still trapped in their cage, but it won't be very long until they are released. I try grabbing for her hand, but it's too far away.

The rough bark scratches against my skin as I clamber down the branches, landing on top of the small branch below my tarp.

"Grab my hand!" I shouted. Ruby tries to jump again, but it doesn't work. The mutts are snapping at the bars now, eager to get out and have their tasty treat.

"Fuck!" I yell, hooking my leg around the branch, but I can't lower myself or else I'll fall and we'll both be down there. The forests animals have run away, judging by the footprints in the snow that make a small pattern through the shrubs.

The metal screeching sound from their claws is freaking us out, and Ruby has a wild look on her face. Her teeth grit together as she prepares for one last jump, and my eyes stare into hers.

"Help." she mouths. She jumps, and our hands touch...but don't take hold. She falls back down in a heap on the ground. I yell for her to get back up, but I hear a bell ring, and the cage's door lowers. Ruby screams, and whips out her dagger.

The first mutt is killed when she lands on top of it, stabbing it through the ribcage. She seems to be doing pretty well. I bit my lip again, but a mutt launches itself off of the ground and lands on top of her.

Ruby screams and blood flies from her arm as the mutt clamps down onto it. Skin and flesh rip apart as the mutt tugs, while Ruby stabs uselessly at its head. I hear a loud crack and Ruby utters a moan of pain as her arm is broken.

She manages to stab through the mutt's head, and she is left with her broken arm in its mouth and the last two mutts rushing towards her.

"No!" she screams. One of them pounces on top of her, digging its mouth into her stomach. She screams again, and I drop down from the tree.

"Fuck me!" I yell, tearing the mutt from her body. It flies to the side and I realize I left my dagger up in the tree. "Damnit!" The other mutt rushes at me, but I still have no weapon. It tackles me, and I fly backwards to the ground. Something digs into my back, and I yell again in pain. It's small and painful...it's the chip that's been dug out of my shoulder.

Ruby tries to give her dagger to me, but she in tackled by the remaining mutt. It tears skin from her body, and I hear the worst scream I have heard in my life. The scream of a human who knows they have nothing left in life.

Ruby's clothes are ripped to shreds, along with her abdomen. Blood and flesh fly all over the place, staining the ground and the other mutt's fur. Something rushes through me, and I kick upwards, landing a kick straight in the mutt's crotch. It yelps and falls backwards, and I stomp on its head, killing it instantly. There's only one left, now.

I tear it away from Ruby's body, and I don't even hear the cannon as I pummel the stupid dog, and then pick up Ruby's dagger. I cut open its throat and stab multiple times into its stomach, falling back on the ground in a puddle of blood. I drop the dagger and stumble towards the tree, blood falling from my back and hands.

My hands clench the bark as I hoist myself up onto the branch, climbing to my tarp. I look up at the sky grimly, and I see my picture disappear from the sky. I expect to see Ruby's picture, but something surprises me.

Ruby's picture is displayed, but then it suddenly flickers to mine, and then back to hers, back and forth. I think of the chip that had smashed into my back. Had it started to read my vital signs again?

I pulled it out from my back, and the picture stopped flickering, staying on Ruby's silent picture. I looked down at her body.

"I do not want to see that in the morning..." I thought. "I just might collapse."

**Author's Note:** R.I.P. Ruby Todem. It was hard for me to do it, but we have some major fighting spirit from Thor and some self-reflection. Could Thor come away better from this? We'll see next chapter!


	17. Fireplace

**Author's Note: Thanks again to you guys for the reviews, and, fortunately, there will be no deaths this chapter. Next chapter, there might be one…or two. Anyway, we get to hear (again) from Thor Vang, Cannan Thrush, and a newcomer…Peeta Mellark! Read on to find out why he's featured in this chapter.**

**Thor Vang – Southeast Forest**

The early morning forest is peaceful, the sounds of violence from the night before lost in time. My head rested on the thick branch, little pieces of bark littering my hair. The rough wood scratched against my face, creating little gashes next to my left eye. The branch creaked in the wind, but I was not asleep. No, I was wide awake, my eyes staring out at the forest beyond.

My eyes were almost bloodshot, and my mind was still creating nightmares about the Rushing Mutts. I never fell asleep. Instead, I had stared at the stars all night long, waiting for the horrible dark to end. At two in the morning I had heard the announcement. It was from Claudius Templesmith.

"Hello, tributes and viewers. A special announcment is to be made! You see, some of our tributes have been thinking that they can't be seen by the cameras, which is not true. Consequently, these islands rest on a fault line. We can't say what will be happening, but be warned, tributes." I guessed that was my punishment for taking out the chip. Somewhere on the island, an earthquake would be happening. Great.

The announcement went on. "Some of the Gamemakers have been thinking, and we've decided to introduce a few things to the arena. There will be new mutts, like the Rushing Mutts you've probably seen, and other things. If any of you survive to Day 8 and 9, we will have some surprises. Don't get too excited, unless you know how to fire a crossbow." I nearly fell off of the tree. I looked in my backpack again, staring at those shiny metal bits. They were crossbow bolts.

This was insane. They were introducing propelled weapons into the game? This alarming thought invaded my mind, and for the next ten minutes that was all I could think about. I sat there on the branch, my arms wrapped around the dull bark. The anouncement went on about sponsors and gifts, and then Claudius turned to more pressing matters.

"This is also the beginning of Day Two. Eight tributes are…dead, although…ah, nevermind. Don't be hiding all of today. Before you know it, the Careers will be on top of you." He was stuttering because I wasn't dead. But for some reason, the Capitol wanted the other tributes to believe that I was. Maybe it would make the Games more exciting…  
I take a little piece of beef jerky out of my pack and chew on it silently. I stare at the bloodstained snow, but there are no bodies. The hovercraft came long ago. My smile droops as I remember fighting the Rushing Mutts. Ruby didn't have a sliver of a chance…

My leg swings over the edge of the branch as I pop open the clasp on the side of the tarp. I can't stay here, there's already too many bad memories. The tarp folds easily into a small square, which I stuff into my pack. My boots are tied slowly as I look up at the Alaskan skyline. It's already beginning to be a beautiful day.

My boots start to collect snow and dirt as I clomp through the slush that composes the forest floor. It's still dark, so I have a bit of a hard time navigating my way back out to the river that flows from the waterfall. At around three o'clock in the morning I find my way back to it, and I am on my way to the waterfall.

The stars glint brightly, and I see that the sun will rise in an hour or so. My gaze scans the horizon…and stops at something that was not there the night before.

There is some sort of tower on the cliff east of the waterfall. The only entrance seems to be on the higher plateau, which would mean I would have to climb up the waterfall to investigate the tower. I think about that for a little bit, but decide to leave it for another day. I think about going to the peak across the river, but I can see a small campfire which has a tribute sitting behind it, wide awake. I think it's Alexander.

I shrug and look south. There's a little island there, but I still want to look at the waterfall. Once again, I see something I hadn't noticed before.

There's five sleeping bodies near the pool at the base of the waterfall. They're the Careers, having made a camp at the most strategic point in the arena. Now I'm stuck. I have to go to the small island.

I walk next to the river on a southbound journey. About twenty minutes later I stand on top of the island, the ocean air blasting back my hair. My feet shuffle around in the snow as I look for somewhere to make shelter. My eyes fall on a small cave almost level with the waterline, but it doesn't look like it'll flood. I poke my head down into it, but there's no one inside.

I breathe a little sigh of relief and duck down into it. My head relaxes against the stone and my hands rest on my lap.

**Cannan Thrush – Northwest Peak**

The rabbit struggles, but there is nothing it can do. The trap quickly kills it and I step forward to retrieve our meal. It took a lot of tries, but Swift and I had created a pitfall trap set up on the side of the peak. Swift and I had run away from the bloodbath and we had ended up at this ledge-like structure near the bottom of the peak. We set up camp, and we've been watching the others down below for a while now.

Alexander left at about eleven o'clock, southbound. Bea and Prophet still had their camp, but there was someone else among us.

I had seen Melanie Sageburn creep around in the middle of the night, but she was not here now. Her district partner, Ryan Mellark, was. He was hiding in a tree not that far from District 8's camp, and he was obviously planning something.

Swift waits for me up at the ledge, a wide grin on her face. Her brown hair is strung up in a ponytail, her blue eyes sparkling. A small smile flits across my own face for a second, before I pick up the rabbit and make my way back up to the ledge.

Her parka has been ripped, but she isn't wearing it currently. Her dull t-shirt doesn't dim her beauty, and it slightly disguises her against the rock. She reaches up to kiss me and a give her a small hug.

"I'm hungry." She mutters. "Did it work?"

"Yep. Food for us!" I smile, and she laughs.

"What are they doing down there, by the way?" My smile drops a little bit, but I explain to her.

"Melanie's sneaking around, Ryan's hiding in a tree, and Bea and Prophet are currently sleeping." Swift nods and sits down on the black tarp we had managed to grab at the Cornucopia, along with a blanket, a canteen, a dagger, and a packet of crackers. Soon enough, the rabbit is over the fire, but our ledge prevents anyone else from seeing the smoke. Somewhere, I hear a metal dragging against rock, but I ignore it for now.

To the left of our small camp is some manhole-like structure built into the rock, but I can't open it or anything. It looks like it will open up to the air all by itself, eventually.

Swift continues to smoke the rabbit as I gaze out over the silent early morning air. I'm not relaxed, though. Any time, someone could see us up here, and we'd have a hard time going down the other side of the peak. It's also a bit cold up here, so I'm thinking about moving back down the waterfall to the other vantage point: the southern peak.

The smoke begins to waft my way, and I cough a little bit. Swift laughs again.

"How are you liking the arena, Cannan?" she asks, concentrated on the fire.

"I guess it's okay. I wish I was home, though." She shrugs and turns to me.

"What about the Capitol?" I laugh.

"No, too weird. And too crowded." She nods, her eyes falling on my scar.

"What the…?" You see, a large zigzag scar runs up my arm from a certain accident in my past.

"The scar?"

"Yeah…I never noticed it before. What happened?"

"Barbed wire…" I sighed, thinking back. "I have this horse. He's beautiful, this dark black color. He's also very fast, and possibly my best friend. His name's Shiver." Swift nodded, leaning in more. "Don't forget about the fire."

"Oh, yeah." She turns her attention back to the fire, but she's still listening.

"Well, Shiver was a good horse. But sometimes we had some rough bits. It had been a bad day at school, and I wasn't feeling well." Swift nodded, glancing at the rabbit again. "I wasn't being a good rider, either. Shiver must've gotten pissed. He bucked and I was thrown into a barbed wire fence." Swift winced.

"That's from the fence?" she asks, pointing to my scar. I nod, and she bites her lip.

"I never really had problems in my family."

"Really? No deaths or injuries or anything?"

"No, I've had a pretty good life."

"Well, two members of my family have died because of the Hunger Games. My sister, Maya, was a good person. But she was reaped when I was ten years old and she died in the final ten. Two years later, my brother Nevete was reaped and killed in the bloodbath." I sighed, pulling something out of my pocket. Swift leaned in closer to look.

It was a small duck charm. I looked at it fondly, tilting it around in my palm.

"What is it?"

"It was a charm from Maya's bracelet. She had this thing about charms and she was always collecting them from around the district. The duck was her favorite animal, and it was her first charm. This was the only one I saved. The others are locked up somewhere in my family's memento cabinet." Swift leans back against the rock and pulls the rabbit off of the campfire. She dumps our dirt bucket onto the flame and puts it on a clean, raised section of the tarp so we are both able to eat.

"Well, at least we're here now." Mutters Swift, chewing softly on a piece of rabbit. I nod.

"Look who it is…" I hear a voice behind me.

"What the…?" Conan Becker, Swan Tindle, and Flare Heartforth stand behind me.

"Hello, Cannan." Conan gets a wide smile on his face.

"Shit." Cannan thrusts his sword forward, and I leap backwards, ready to run if I see an opening. But something distracts me. A dull rumbling is coming from the top of the mountain. Conan falters.

"…" His mouth gapes open wide, and I see why. A wall of snow and rock tumbles down the mountainside, and it's already three thirds of the way towards us. The ground rumbles, and I lose my balance.

"Run!" shouts Flare, pulling Swan to the side as something hits me in the back. I fly forward into a rock, and before I know it, I am soaring out off of the ledge.

**Peeta Mellark – The Capitol**

"Hey, come on, man. They're both still alive. I'd say that you've been doing pretty good." Finn Yang claps his hand down on my shoulder, and I nod grimly.

The viewing screen reflects the battle that is currently going on. I've seen Ryan hiding in that tree, and I curse rather loudly when his arrow misses and strikes Bea Dechers in the arm. A bad shot…

Nobody else notices her injury, as Prophet doesn't even wake up. I ignore the screen and turn for the door. The handle is stuck, for some reason.

"Having a problem?" asks Laemon Star. I shrug, trying to pull it open. The door is jammed, and it seems like it has been blocked from the other side…

I press the button for the intercom.

"Hey? Anybody there? The door's not working, and I don't feel like watching right now." There's no answer from the intercom, and I turn back to Finn.

"Are they locking us in here?" mutters Laemon, before the door explodes inward, slamming against the wall as two Peacekeepers storm in.

"Peeta Mellark and Finn Yang! President Snow requests your presence." I frown, but the Peacekeeper grabs my arm and I am forced to follow him.

**Author's Note:** **Yeah, Snow is still the president. I also have a sponsor question for you…**

**But I'll give it next chapter! See you then!**


	18. Blood and Snow

**Author's Note: Delay, delay, delay. I know, but I finally got off my writer's block for Town of Arkh and I put something else up, and I wonder if any of you noticed. There will be a sequel to this, and the tribute form is already up. Look on my profile for the 100th Hunger Games. Anyway...**

**Ryan Mellark – North Camp**

It's a wonderful and horrendous sight. A large wall of rock and ice tumbles down the mountainside, headed straight for us, all started by Swift's cannon. The look of surprise on her face as Conan's sword was thrust through her stomach and out the other side. Cannan didn't even seem to notice or hear the cannon, distracted by the coming avalanche.

Safin and Swan dove to the side, but Cannan, Conan, and Flare were hit head on by the avalanche. I leap out of my tree, running the opposite way, before something nicks my ankle and I go sprawling forwards into the snow.

Flare catapults forwards and lands face-first in the snow, Conan and Cannan soon to follow. But my attention isn't on them anymore. Melanie Sageburn is standing straight above me, her dagger in hand.

"What the? Melanie?" I cough, getting up. She plants a kick on my forehead and I fall back.

"Sorry, Ryan. But the Hunger Games are the Hunger Games..." she kicks me in the stomach.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I splutter, yanking her leg out from under her. I get back up, and Melanie scowls.

"It means that even though you may be the son of the two most famous tributes ever to live, you're still going down!" she throws her dagger, but the handle bounces off of my shoulder and falls harmlessly into the snow. I laugh.

"That's you best." I crack my knuckles, and she suddenly gets a look of fear on her face.

"What are you scared of?" I say, picking up the knife. I advance forwards, but then something hits me in the back, and it feels like a train has hit me.

I go flying forwards over the small ridge and crash into a small tree next to Bea, who has awoken to the avalanche. She's smashed into the old Rushing Mutt cage by the snow, and she groans in pain.

I see Melanie and Prophet get engulfed by the wave of snow, before a falling branch hits me in the forehead, and I begin to sink beneath the flowing snow. Slush fills my mouth, and I try to cough to get it out. Melanie screams somewhere, and my fingers scrabble for a handhold. Something to grab onto.

They find one of the tree's roots. I hold on for dear life, the snow surging around me. Water and slush spray into my face, the snow rushing past at an enormous speed. Something knocks into my leg and almost makes me lose my balance, but my hand still clenches around the root. It's very slippery and the bark rubs against my skin, but I do not let go of that root.

A branch whips me across the face, and the snow begins to die down. It looks like it wasn't even that much snow. I guess that if it had been more, it would have killed all of us, and that wouldn't have gone well with the Capitol.

All of my limbs throb with pain, and I swear I hear a dog bark somewhere. There's thrashing and slush flying everywhere, and I realize with a pang of disgust that the Rushing Mutts are dragged Swift's body away. There's another cannon, but I can't tell who it is. Probably someone who drowned in the overwhelming snow.

I hear crying from another girl, presumably Bea. My arrow still sticks from her shoulder, having fired it right before the avalanche hit. Her arm is trapped between a rock and a log. I guess that's what they mean when someone's stuck between a rock and a hard place. Bea isn't going anywhere.

A hovercraft sweeps in, scaring away the Rushing Mutts. I get a glance of Swift's body being lifted up into the sky, and then it comes over towards me. I frown, and then see the snow parting to let a body through. It's Melanie. I guess she got what she deserved. But I knew that her philosophy was right. Nobody was safe during the Hunger Games.

And it wasn't just the tributes. I'd heard stories of tribute's families getting beaten or tortured after the tribute had done something stupid, or the whole of the Capitol's food blockade against District 3 after Beetee Trick's attempted escape from the Capitol during the 83rd Hunger Games. It got him, Johanna Mason, and Brutus Lexiar killed. It was an unfortunate year, seeing as that year it had been another victory for District 1...

That brought my thoughts back to Jackson Burma and the 75th Hunger Games. He was 12 years old at the time, and I could guess that he was about thirty-six now. He had a strand of luck, a tree happening to fall on his opponent, a nine-year-old girl from District 2.

Luck had seemed to play a major part in Ryan's life. Neither of his parents had sparked District 13's rebellion. After the 75th Hunger Games, the Capitol promptly forgot as the Districts outraged against the deaths of six-year-olds.

I sighed and tried to pull myself from the snowy embrace. Sweat dripped from my nose as Prophet popped his head up from the ditch in which he had hidden, and looked around, spotting me. He tried to signal something, and I think he was asking for an alliance. I considered that. An alliance would be better than nothing. Melanie was dead, and Cannan was probably alone, so if we could recruit him...

I nodded, and he fell back into the snow. I laughed. Maybe I would survive this whole murder fest after all.

**Peeta Mellark – The Capitol**

I'm shoved roughly forward as I try to keep my balance on the tiny stairway. Finn looks confused, his shaggy light brown hair falling over his green eyes. The scar over his right eye glows with health, and his eyes flash with intensity. The Peacekeepers look pissed, their gloves tightly gripping the collar of my shirt.

"Do you have to be so rough?" I ask, and Finn grins.

"No, but Snow has quite a few things to talk to you about, some regarding next year's games." I frown, but we are hustled through a bland hallway with absolutely nothing to look at and I lose my trail of thought.

"He's going to tell us the Quarter Quell?" asked Finn, but the Peacekeeper merely grunted. They didn't want to spoil anything, I guess.

After a few minutes of going through streets and hallways, we arrive at President Snow's office. He's getting old, and the smell of the sickly white roses can no longer hide the smell of blood. The sores on the insides of his mouth must be really infected, and I wonder why he won't see a doctor.

"Gentlemen, sit down." he says, smiling and showing his bloodstained teeth. I wince, and Finn frowns in disgust.

"Sir...why have you called us here?" I ask.

"I merely thought that you two would be the best to discuss with next year's Games. It's the Quarter Quell!" he laughs. He must be insane. I remember him a few years back, always acting all grim and suspicious. His daughter, Bliss, must be plotting to take over his position. Or maybe I'm guessing a bit too much.

"As you both know," he says, shooing the Peacekeepers out. "Last year's Quarter Quell didn't go so well with the Districts. As a bit of an apology, I have persuaded to use a very uneventful card from inside the box."

"Wait, I thought you just picked a card at random." Finn asked. Snow smiles.

"Did you really believe that?" the old man says. Finn looks a bit uneasy.

"So...what's the Quarter Quell." Snow turns to me.

"How long do you think the average Games last?" I think for a second.

"A week, maybe."

"Ok, Peeta says a week. Anyway, this Quarter Quell declares that if there are any tributes left after two weeks, they will all be victors." I whistle, and Finn stares back at Snow.

"So you're saying all the tributes could survive?" asks Finn, his hand reaching for a weapon that isn't there. Snow smiles an evil grin.

"Why yes. But there's a few catches."

"Catches?"

"Yes. For one, if there is one tribute left in the arena, but the time limit is not up, they will stay there until two weeks have passed." I nod, taking all of this in. "And to compensate for how easy you will win, there will be a lot more traps. And a lot more muttations. I personally like this one myself." I frown, as a small glass cage encloses President Snow.

A small trap door opens up to the left of Snow's desk, and a giant gecko begins to crawl out. Finn leaps out of his chair. You see, he has an irrational fear of amphibians and reptiles.

"Not cool..." The gecko walks forwards a foot, and Finn yelps.

"Snow! What the hell!" He just grins, his bloodstained teeth showing through his smile.

"Let's see how long you can last." Finn looks around for a weapon, and I glance towards the hat rack. Finn literally rips it apart until only the pole is left, and points it towards the gecko.

"Stay back!" he shouts. I uneasily grab a letter opener off of Snow's desk. The gecko lunges, and the pole goes straight into its face. Blood drips from a cut on its snout, and it growls.

"Finn!" I shout, as another trap door opens up behind him. Nothing comes out, but he falters anyway. The gecko jumps towards him and gets a hold of his leg.

"Shit!" He batters it with the pole, but it doesn't release its grip on his leg. I try to look for an opening, but the gecko and Finn are rolling around, clawing and punching each other. Neither seems to be running out of energy.

Something rises up from Snow's desk – a small container holding a pistol. It's a six-shooter, so I flip open the side to see how much ammunition it has. Three gold bullets rest in the slots.

"Finn! I've got a gun!" He turns over towards me, as the gecko tries to bite him again.

"If you can shoot it, then freaking shoot it!" he yells, and I try to aim the pistol at the gecko's head. It's not easy. It's rolling around on the floor, fighting with Finn, and I'm not exactly a great shot myself. I've never fired a gun in my life.

The gun goes off and barely nicks Finn's neck.

"What the hell! Can't you fricking aim a gun?" He's wrestling with the gecko's neck, like an alligator. It bucks and tries to bite him, but he's got its neck in a strong grip.

"There! Shoot the damn thing!" I fire, but the gecko bucks again and slams Finn into the door frame. He lets out a groan of pain. His body slumps against the door, blood running from various cuts and bruises on his arms and shoulders. The gecko rushes towards me, and I fire my last shot. The gun goes off very loudly, and the gecko's head simply explodes. I sit back down against Snow's desk, and let out something between a sigh and a shout. Finn holds his head in his hands, and the two Peacekeepers reenter the room.

"Help." I say, but he just hits me in the face with the butt of his rifle.

**Author's Note: So, these things are going to be in the next Games? Scary...and now you know the next Quarter Quell. Even though this may be a little bit less harsh, there will be plenty of other things...**

**R.I.P. Swift Jenssen and Melanie Sageburn, it wasn't easy thinking about who would die in the avalanche. **

**If you want five sponsor points, give me an idea for a muttation, and I just might use it in my next fic. See you next time!**


	19. Join In On the Fun

**Author's Note:** Well, I've been a bit disappointing lately, haven't I? No worries, I'm going to try to start writing again, because I had writer's block, school ended, and then I was grounded and couldn't use the computer for a week. I'm back again, and soon you'll find out who wins the 99th Games! But that's still a while ahead…but here's some news: A sponsor question is up this chapter!  
**Sponsor Question:** Tell me how Jackson won his Games.

**Jackson Burma – Capitol Medical Center**

Peeta groaned from where he lay in the bed, red bruises splotched across his face. There was an angry red welt in a sort of round shape right next to his eye, all swollen and probably infected. He managed to get himself up from the position he was in to look at me.

"Damn…where's Finn?"

"Right there, Peeta. Just rest for the moment. We should be back at the Training Center soon." Peeta nodded.

"Finn…what did snow tell you?"

"You two released some mutt he had in his office, apparently caused quite a bit of chaos."

"No, he's a liar. He released that monster out of its cage…"

"He told me you would say that. He said you would be delirious."

"I am not delirious!" Peeta shouted, standing up from the cot. He towered over me, his blond curly hair half covering his eyes that tried to drill a hole through my head. His breathing slowed.

"How is Finn. Is it bad?"

"A bit of internal bleeding. Not that bad. No broken bones." Peeta started to say something, but I stopped him. "Peeta, he's knocked out cold. Not going to hear anything. They might keep him in here for a day or so."

"What about his surviving tribute? Flare?"

"She'll just have to go without sponsors for a few days." Peeta nodded, grimly looking at Finn's cot.

"Are any of the others here with you?"

"Laemon is. She's out in the waiting room. She's been on the phone talking to her fiancé all day, and I don't think that things are going well. She's calm now, but who knows what'll happen if she gets a phone call later." Peeta nodded.

"Just…come get me if Finn wakes up."

"Can do." Peeta tried to smile, but it just looked like a grimace. He quickly walked away in the direction of the waiting room.

"Oh, Finn, what are we going to do with you?" I sighed. I heard someone walking up behind me, and I turned to find Rordan Weeks, the mentor from District 2.

"What do you want?"

"I can't check up on my friend?"

"Your friend? He barely knows you, and he's unconscious right now anyways. What's the real reason you came over?" Rordan bit on his lip.

"I need to talk to Finn about something."

"You're not going to be talking to him about anything in the state he's in."

"It's about President Snow."

"President Snow, huh? What is so important that you need to tell Finn?"

"Listen. I think Snow is planning something. I don't know what, but I suggest we get the hell out of here before someone comes to get us."

"Comes to get us? Rordan, this is a public hospital. I'm pretty sure they're not going to come in here and start…" I stopped at the sight of someone walking up behind Rordan.

"Huh?" There was a sharp, metallic crackling noise, and Rordan fell to the ground, out cold.

"Hey! Not cool!" I turned on my heels and ran, and I heard a gun being fired. Something hit me in the back, really hard, and I went flying forwards, sliding on the tile floor. I touched my back. No blood. Rubber bullets, I guessed.

I ran out of the small clinic towards the waiting room, desperate to get to Peeta and Laemon. The bright hospital lights hurt my eyes as I ran down the hallways, away from the Peacekeepers, away from the people that got Rordan. I tripped over my own feet, falling in a heap on the ground. I cried out. I couldn't go any farther…but the sound of boots stomping on the floor behind me got me moving again. I pushed myself up off the ground and starting running.

Peeta probably heard me coming from a mile away with all of the noise I was making, but I didn't care. My feet stomped on the floor as I turned another corner, and I knew that I was almost at the waiting room. There was the front door…

Which had a Peacekeeper standing behind it. I turned my head and kept running. I ran into a nurse and sent her papers flying, and I managed to let out a quick "Sorry!" before I continued to run. There, I could see the sign ahead of me. The waiting room.

I ran in to find Peeta and Laemon already out cold and a Peacekeeper standing at the far end of the room. My eyes widened as I felt something cold and metallic press against the back of my neck, emitting a zap that knocks me out.

**Alexander Van Der Donck – Southwest Peak**

I stretch out my fingers and rest my head on my makeshift pillow. It's the end of the second day now, and I see that the stars are beginning to come out. I smile. The arena's been kind to me so far, and I already have a bunch of items that I will need in the future. My shelter is right next to a small pond, which seems to always have fresh water.

The smoky embers from my fire drift up into the evening air, slightly lighting part of the mountain. I smile at the thought of marshmallows and other things we would roast over fires at home. But we only did it rarely…

I sighed. I already missed home, and although it should be easy enough to get back, who could know how this whole thing would turn out. I could die, and I could win. Who knew besides God what was going to happen.

My boots crunched the wood as they hit the surface of the log to the side of the fire. I frowned. That was my last piece of firewood. I got some water from the pond and extinguished the fire, and put on my jacket. It was time to go find some more firewood.

It was going pretty good at first. I found a few pieces of moderately-sized wood near the river, but I had to venture into the forest in able to get something good.

I knew that Thor Vang had once had a camp in here, but I didn't know if he was still lurking around in the forest. Those Rushing Mutts were nasty things. I had caught the sight of some of them running around near the waterfalls, but the Careers had fought them off. Their camp was a very strategic point: at the waterfall. To get to the other side of the arena, you had to go through the waterfall.

My feet began to sink into the soil, so I turned around and starting walking south. Most of the wood I found now was twigs, but that wasn't unnerving me. I came into a small clearing, which actually wouldn't be that bad for a camp. Oh well, I had my place on the peak. I noticed a little chipmunk staring at me from a nearby tree.

"Hey…" At the sound of my voice, it quickly turned and jumped away, and I lost sight of it. "Oh well…" I sighed, taking a step forward.

As soon as my foot stepped down, I knew something was wrong. There was so pressure and a loud snapping noise, and immense pain in my ankle. I looked down. A bear trap was clamped around my leg, and it was attached to a chain that ran into the ground.

My first reaction would have been to scream, but I held it in, knowing that is would give me away to any passing hunters, and I would be defenseless and restricted by the bear trap.

I tried prying apart the trap, but it was obviously too strong. Blood ran down into my shoe as I yanked on the stubborn metal, but it would not budge. I would need something like a crowbar.

"Shit!" I wrapped my hands in my coat and pulled as hard as I could on the bear trap. It moved a little bit, and I began to get my foot out. While it was halfway out, I accidentally let go and this time it clamped around my toes. I yelled in pain and grabbed the trap again, managing to get my whole foot out.

I laid back on the snow, blood from my ankle and foot staining the snow. I hit aside the firewood lying next to me and picked up a few, trying to run back towards my camp. I dropped one piece of wood and stumbled, falling face flat in the snow. I cursed, but when I looked up I caught sight of the river.

I let out a small sigh of relief. I pulled myself into the river and began to wade across. It was easy enough, but it started to get a little bit deeper in the center. I slipped, and the current began to bring me downstream to the small island that was at the bottom of the arena. My body slammed into the rock and I let go of the firewood, my outstretching arms grabbing onto some weeds. My whole body ached with pain, but all I wanted to do was to get back to the camp. I looked up, and saw that I was staring into the eyes of another tribute.

"Hello." Said Thor Vang, grinning.

**Jackson Burma – Training Center**

My head hurt like hell. I tried to lift myself up from wherever I was sitting, but I stopped when I saw that I was back in the Training Center. We had been brought back? When? I remembered getting Tasered, but after that, that was it.

I wondered why Snow had needed us Tasered. Why couldn't we have just walked back to the Training Center? I didn't know.

I was lying down on a bench in the lobby of the Training Center, which was still fancifully adorned just like it had been when the tributes had been here. I frowned, dragging my aching body off of the bench and pulling myself up straight. Where was everyone else? The lobby was deserted?

The speaker next to me came on, and I realized that we had all been trapped in here.

"Hello, mentors." Said the voice of Snow. "I have been meaning to test out this idea for a while, but never had the volunteers to do it. You eleven mentors are my volunteers. Today, you all will have your own little Hunger Games. The top six will make it out of here alive, but the rest of you shall not. This is a new revolutionary idea that I will be using in the next year's Quarter Quell." I realized that by saying eleven mentors, he had excluded Finn from whatever this was.

"You see, we've never really had an indoor Games before. It's always been an outdoor arena. But what if there was a building big enough to accommodate an arena? Now that would be pretty cool, am I right?" I frowned.

"Anyway, you all heard me. This is a fight to the death. Don't worry, you all should have sufficient mentors to replace you. Especially Peeta." I had no idea where Lover Boy was right now, but I would be glad to have his help…

"There is no bloodbath. There is only the supplies that were already in the Training Center to begin with, plus a lot of traps that have been built throughout the area. Let the Games begin, and good luck to you all!" The speaker shut off, and I was left to stare at an empty lobby, with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.

**Author's Note:** Saw references aside, this mini Hunger Games will be over quick, but some of it still plays some key points. Day 2 is officially over and a special goodbye to Swift Jenssen and Melanie Sageburn. Anyway, next is the beginning of Day 3, and there will be deaths from the tributes and mentors! See you then!


	20. The Village

**Author's Excuse: Delays, mostly working on Town of Arkh, but I managed to write out another chapter just for you guys! I hope you're happy...meh, ignore me. All I do is complain and write out lame excuses.**

**Rupert Stevens – Southeast Forest**

It's not fun seeing someone die. I may think of myself as a ruthless person, and everyone else probably does, but I could not stand to watch Ruby Todem get ripped apart by the mutts. That's why Penelope and I are now in the north part of the forest.

It's a new day, and the sun is rising up over the horizon, beaming brightly as if all of this murder and mayhem made it happy. Penelope and I sludge through the brackish snow. Little droplets of slush fall from the trees, and somewhere a bird clucks happily as it finds itself a meal. The light rays of sunlight sparkle as they fall on Penelope's teeth, and even in the light of our situation, I can't help smiling. Penelope turns to see me staring at her face.

"What are you looking at?" she smiles.

"Oh, nothing." I reply, returning her grin. She shrugs and continues to walk forward, practically refusing to say anything more. "Oh, so that's it?"

"Do I have to say anything more?"

"Are you..."

"What? Flirting with you? Why should I? You're younger than I am."

"By a year."

"Oh, so you know my age. Great." My hand closes around her arm, and she looks at me. "Ooh, so eager."

"Shut up."

"Wait...I heard something."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm dead serious." I frowned. I hadn't heard anything. "It was like a buzz of electronic equipment, or something like that..."

"Like a speaker?"

"Yeah." I bit my lip. I had been too distracted trying to play off her joking nature that I hadn't heard anything. What if we had been ambushed? I strain my ears, listening closely, but I still don't hear anything.

"I swear..." She muttered.

"You're not hearing things?"

"Nope. I heard that loud and clear." I sighed, looking at my hands.

"Well, I'll keep an...ear out for it, okay?" Penelope sighed. "Yeah, sure." I nodded happily.

"So...where were we?" she asked.

"I was telling you to shut up."

"Okay." This bickering kind of went on for a few more minutes, until we stumbled through a line of bushes and I tripped over the first piece of burnt wood.

"What?" I muttered, looking at the ash-covered fence post that was all but gone, barely sticking out of the soil. I looked up to see more burnt wood, a forest...or a village. There were little stone foundations everywhere, remnants of old wood and hay all around them. Penelope and I walked through the area, astonished.

"What in the hell?" She asked. I was wondering the same thing. We came to what must have been a town square at one time, the cobblestones sooty and displaced. In the center was a giant brass bell, a large crack down its center.

"Hey, it's the Liberty Bell!" I said.

"Shut up. Nobody even knows if that existed, anyway."

"It's in the old history books."

"That doesn't mean it's true." Right as she finished pronouncing that word, I heard it. It was a small buzz, from near the tree off to our left. It was quiet, but Penelope was right. It had sounded like a speaker.

"Is anyone there?" I called. No answer. The forest was silent. The buzzing starting to get louder. It was almost as if something was starting up...

"Rupert...can we leave?"

"Uh, yeah..." The humming turned into a loud cranking as something wound up beneath us. I heard buzzing to my left again, and a speaker turned on.

"Hello there, tributes of the 99th Hunger Games. Today we have a surprise for you. There's an extra special type of trap that is in five places in the arena, and I would suggest that you do your best to avoid them. You wouldn't want to die too painfully, would you?" I frowned. The cranking stopped the forest was silent again.

"What the..." The ground blew up beneath us, and Penelope and I fell. I managed to grab onto the edge of the pit, but she wasn't so lucky. She slipped down a metal surface and fell into a small chamber, and a glass door suddenly slid over the pit, separating her and I.

"Penelope!" I shouted. She looked frightened, banging on the glass and yelling at the top of her voice.

"Rupert! Let me out!" A mechanical whirring started up, and an intense ringing noise caused me to put my hands over my ears, and I was then unable to hear Penelope's shouts. She stopped pounding on the glass and fell back, clutching her head, then her chest...

A microwave. Penelope just blew apart before my own eyes. I couldn't have done anything. There was no time for me to react or anything. She just...died. Her cannon went off, loud and clear.

"Oh, god no!" I scrambled back up the small slope, staring at the gruesome mass of blood and pieces of internal organs that covered the glass. The whirring stopped, and the glass door slid down.

"What...the fuck? What in the hell is wrong with you people? Huh? Tell me!" I kicked the dirt aside, rushing for the small floating camera that was filming me. Some rage had awoken within me, and I was not stopping. I slammed the small camera into a rock embedded into the ground, instantly breaking its lens and rendering it useless.

But I didn't stop there. I smashed it to smithereens, until the only thing that was left was a plate of sheet metal. My breath began to slow down, but my eyes darted back to what was left of her.

"Shit." I dropped the metal and hefted my pack. It was still a long way until the Games were over.

**Thor Vang – Southern Island**

That bastard. I clutched my wrist, which was heavily bleeding onto the floor of the cave and splattering onto my already-stained shirt. Alexander limped away as fast as he could, the gash on his stomach and his injured foot slowing him.

"Come back here!" I grabbed my bloody dagger from the floor, hefting myself up and throwing myself at him. He grunted in surprise, my dagger cutting through his parka and stabbing him under his shoulderblade. He screamed in pain, flipping me over his shoulder and throwing me forward. I flew into the shallow water, sand stinging my eyes and salt getting into my wounds.

A foot hit into my stomach, flipping me into the water with a giant splash. Two hands grabbed my jacket and hefted me up, but I could tell that he was straining. He yelled, throwing me into the rock wall of the cave.

I fell flat on my face, but I didn't move. A cannon came out of nowhere, but I still paid no attention. Alexander took one last glance at me, sneered, and limped away. I guess he thought I was dead.

I managed to sustain a groan; my wrist was killing me. I pushed myself up off of the wet, cold, rock floor, holding my head in pain.

"Bastard." I muttered. I looked to my right where my supply of items was now torn to bits. All that was left was a small rusty dagger, the tarp, and a bag of jerky. I sighed. I knew the games would be like this, but had I honestly thought I could survive?

I slumped down in the mud, wondering who had died to cause that cannon.

I slowly chewed on a small piece of jerky. I noticed it was a mild teriyaki flavor. Yay...my favorite.

Alexander wouldn't be able to tell if I had survived when nightfall came because, technically, I was already dead. That was breaking the rules. They should've thrown an avalanche at me or something. All I know is that if I make it out of here, things are not going to look good. I would be dead before I could even walk off of the hovercraft.

Who knows? Maybe they're saving some vicious mutt just for me. The announcement about the special traps frightened me a little, but I had seen absolutely nothing pop up from under the sandy shore. There were no traps near me.

That gets me thinking. What if one of those traps killed someone, causing that cannon. That "special" way of killing someone may have actually saved my life...

Thunder cracks loudly over my head. It's the first storm we've have since the bloodbath. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead, expecting a light drizzle of rain. But that is not what comes down. A torrent of sleet batters me so much that I am forced to go farther inside the cave. Lightning lights up the darkened sky, splashes of snow and rain falling down into the cave towards me.

I barely manage to remember to grab my rucksack before the stream of water pushes it back farther into the cave.

With all of the noise around me; the rain, the thunder, the echoes of the cave, and the loud bangs of trees falling down in the forest, it's an accomplishment that I am able to hear the loudspeaker above everything else. It's Claudius Templesmith, and apparently he has something important to announce.

"Our President, Adrian Firth Snow, has died of a heart attack. It happened this afternoon at 15:00 hours. His granddaughter, Annabelle Delilah Snow, will be inaugurated into the post of President of Panem tomorrow morning. Note that this does not change anything. The Games will not be affected in anyway."

I am awestruck. President Snow is dead? I sit there in the slowly flooding cave, thinking it out. His granddaughter would undoubtedly make changes to the Games, but what would they be? However many tributes were left would still be left here in the arena.

Lightning struck the ground somewhere close to the entrance to the cave, striking up sparks. I bit my lip. It looked like I would have to move camp once again. But it wasn't like I would have to carry much. Alexander had taken practically everything. I pick up the backpack and stuff my soaking wet tarp inside. I threw aside the dagger and put what was left of the jerky in the front pocket. I took off my mutilated torn hoody and put on the backpack, ready for whatever was out there.

The rain came down pretty hard, pummeling the back of my neck and thoroughly soaking my clothes. My feet slosh through the mud, the wetness getting through to my thick socks.

Somewhere, there must be a dry area. I think of the waterfall, but it will be too slick to climb in this weather and the Careers are guarding it anyway.

My mind goes to the forest where Ruby was killed by the Rushing Mutts. I don't know what it north of there, except for that large tower that you can see from the edge of the arena. I decided to head for that small corner of the arena.

The sky began to get dark, and I could guess that it was getting late. Templesmith had said that it was the afternoon, but it must get dark up north, because it could only be around 6:00 PM.

Not that much later I am back in the dark forest. I just keep walking towards that tower in the distance. It looks as if there's a light on in the top of the tower. I wonder who could be up there...

I stumble through a small clearing and arrive in what seems like an old abandoned village. It's dark, and I can barely see where I am going. I step forward slowly, one foot in front of the other. I step again...but there is no ground. I fall into a pit of some sort.

"Damn...what the..." In front of me what a small glass chamber, and all of the walls were coated...with a gory mess of blood. I hope that no one heard my yell.

**Author's Note:** R.I.P. Penelope Young...and President Snow. Bet that wasn't expected. Next chapter is a little bit on Snow's little game inside the Training Center. There will be more deaths on the fourth day, unfortunately. But remember, only one person can win...

Also, could you guys vote on the poll on my profile?


	21. Young Love and Murder

**Author's Note: Pray that these chapters will be coming quickly. Who knows, I might be able to actually get this story back on track, along with Weapons of Mass Destruction. I might be writing yet another Hunger Games one-shot soon…but who knows? There's a lot of different POVs in this chapters, and three deaths and one near-death. But that character can still be saved...  
**

**Also, the winner of the Games is switching between three people...**

**Two are fan favorites (I guess you could say that).**

**Also, a map will be up on DeviantArt soon.**

**WARNING. EXCESSIVE SWEARING IN ALEXANDER'S POV.**

**This chapter will be totally in Third Person.**

**Advertisement: You might want to check out Laralulu's story – Betrayed By Your Own: The 25****th**** Hunger Games. It's gonna need a lot of involvement from readers, and I know she still needs some help. Go check it out!**

**Sponsor Question: Who was the victor of the 75****th**** Hunger Games?**

His whole body felt like he had been locked in a meat freezer for two years. Every part of his body was numb and cold, and he could only get feeling from his face. Blood oozed out from a giant gash along his left side, thicker than it normally would because of the lack of food and water that resulted from the last day and a half stuck under this rock.

He couldn't get to his pack, which was probably smashed to bits under the boulder. Little pieces of food were scattered around on the ground in front of them, but he couldn't possibly reach them from his positions. It was just like some urban myth he had read two years ago – a guy gets stuck in a desert, trapped by a boulder. He has to cut off one of his limbs to survive.

But it was most likely a myth. Cannan didn't even know if the Capitol's 'deserts' even existed anymore. What he also didn't know was whether he would ever be able to move his left leg out from under this rock. Frost fell from his dark blonde hair, slowly drifting downwards past his ice blue eyes. But no matter what Cannan told himself, he knew what he had to do.

He glanced back at the gash that had pained his leg for the whole day he had been sitting here. He had already pissed his pants, but luckily he hadn't gotten the other call of nature. But it was only a matter of time…

Cannan tried shifting himself forwards, and his pants ripped at the back of his calf. The rock dragged against his skin, pushing in his fractured bone. He screamed in pain, and then quickly covered up his mouth again.

Cannan's mind flitted back and forth, old memories crowding his above-average brain. There was Makesha, a girl he was good friends with back in District 10. She was from a richer family, but she never paused to think about that when she helped Cannan out around the farm.

There was Shiver, his beautiful black horse. Racing Shiver around the track…jumping hoops and the like…up until the point where he had been thrown off of the horse and gotten that scar…

Swift. Swift Jenssen. Her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, her blue eyes sparkling. That smile on her face before Conan had jumped him. Her hands and face, still beautiful despite the grubbiness that covered them. But she had been brutally murdered by Conan.

All the while Cannan was thinking, he was pulling his leg out from under the rock. Pieces of spiked rock caught on Cannan's skin, ripping off slivers of skin and flesh. Blood pooled beneath his legs, but he did not falter. The pulling continued, and at one point the rock shifted forward, falling straight onto his fractured leg. He heard the bone crack. Screaming filled the mountain air. Anybody who hadn't noticed him before surely would have now.

His leg was broken in two places. He was sure of it. Blood still soaked through his winter pants, falling into that small crevice beneath his body. With one last final grunt, he pulled his foot through, which snapped the rock down and nearly broke his ankle. Not that he could walk anyway…

Cannan finally got ahold of his rucksack, but most of the things inside were destroyed. But there was some rabbit…the rabbit Swift had smoked before she had died. He took a tentative bite. It was fine. The cold mountain air had more or less preserved the rabbit. It was cold, and still had some of the smoky flavour.

His hoody was missing its hood. His left pantleg was all but gone. Blood gushed out of his broken left leg, bone poked through the skin, pressing against what was left of his pants. Pain wracked his whole body, and he knew he was about to black out. Suddenly, black shadow fell all around Cannan. He looked up, trying to shield his eyes…

* * *

Cannan's head exploded, blown to pieces by the bang stick Atlas had held to his head. It was a convenient weapon, and he had found it in a torn open blue backpack that had been at the top of the waterfall. But unfortunately, it only seemed to have one use. The cannon echoed in his ears. Atlas laughed.

It was like a shotgun shell on the end of a metal pole. They didn't get very many shotguns in District 3, but Atlas had studied his great-grandfather's hunting rifle thoroughly. He knew some gun parts, but as far as Atlas knew, there had never been any firearms in any Games in history. He knew that a bang stick was a weapon used in fishing. Was it possibly from a Career backpack?

In fact, there had never been any self-propelled weapons at all. No catapults, no crossbows, no firearms, and no ballistics. But in his hands was a ballistic weapon.

Were the Games changing?

Atlas gazed down at Cannan's sorry mess of a body, and he began to feel a bit sorry for him. He knew that two days ago, his girlfriend Swift had died. And Atlas assumed that he had been trapped under this boulder the whole time. Too bad that Atlas had been waiting for him when he got out.

Atlas was stalking the most powerful tributes left in the arena. There was Flare, Conan, Safin, and Anna, but he would have to take care of them later. Thor was supposedly dead, but he had sworn he had seen the limber tribute running through the forest a day earlier. There was also Alexander and Rupert. Atlas planned to eliminate Alexander next.

He knew that District 6's hero was hidden up in the mountains somewhere, but he had no clue as of his exact whereabouts.

But knowing Alexander's skills, he was probably hidden away somewhere, enjoying nice food and waiting the Games out. Atlas scowled.

He had ditched Heron and Ryder when Swift's name had been displayed in the sky the night of her death. Ryder was weakening, and soon enough he would die from his injuries. After that, Atlas only had to wait. He could live on Alexander's supply of food…if he actually had any.

He tossed the bang stick to the side, rummaging through Cannan's bag and surprisingly finding a short-handled spear. He grinned.

"That's more like it," Atlas laughed. "Now, where could Alex be?"

Atlas trudged through the bleak snow, pausing every minute or so to wipe ice and sweat from his forehead. Little gnats swarmed around his face, getting into his jacket and making him extremely itchy and irritated. The sooner he found Alexander, the better. He wiped some more sweat off of his forehead, and this time he swore that a little blood came with it. He spat into the bleached white snow. He thought he could see a small plume of smoke in the horizon ahead.

"Hah." He smiled. "Found you."

* * *

Ryder's hip looked absolutely horrible. It was definitely blood poisoning. Heron knew practically nothing about medicine, but she and Atlas had wrapped up the injury to the best of their abilities, but no medicine had arrived. Is this went along for much longer, then Ryder would certainly die.

Heron had already cried twice that day. There wasn't that much food left, and she had woken up this morning to find that Atlas had disappeared. Her little arena life was falling apart.

She cupped her hands together and dipped them into the cold stream. Little dots of mud drifted off into the clear water, spiraling east towards the right forest. Heron sighed. Her clothes were mud stained, the jacket pretty much torn apart. Blood covered the front of her shirt. It was all Ryder's.

He wouldn't survive another twelve hours if they didn't get medicine. He couldn't walk, he could barely speak, and most of the time he complained of back pain and some sort of anxiety.

Heron couldn't take it anymore. But she went to talk to him anyway.

"Ryder?" she whispered, touching his face and brushing the tip of his hair away. "You awake?" His eyes cracked open, squinting in the bright noon sunlight.

"Is it lunchtime?" He muttered, his dry, brittle lips cracking the skin every time he moved his mouth.

"I guess so. We have to ration what we have left..." She reached behind her for the pack that contained there remaining food, hidden behind an old destroyed tree trunk. She then realized she hadn't eaten since Atlas had left...

The pack was gone, along with Ryder's dagger. They had no weapons. Heron cursed herself. Atlas had totally betrayed them, and she had been oblivious.

"No food?" asked Ryder. Heron nodded grimly. Ryder sighed, and then winced as his stomach contracted.

"I'm dying."

"I know."

"Come here." He said, a hint of a tear in his eyes. With about as much energy as he could muster, he pulled himself up from the rock, blood and torn shirt falling back behind him. Heron could swear that she heard a bone crack.

She touched his face again. "Ryder..."

"I know about the whole Hinder thing. It's okay...it's okay if you leave me. I won't be able to survive anyway." Heron bit her lip, holding in her tears.

"You know."

"It's not a secret."

"I know. But there's another secret I should have told you earlier."

"What?" Ryder asked, confused.

"I love you." Heron pulled him in, her lips brushing against his. He grunted as his ribs shifted again, the gash in his side bleeding profusely. But at that moment he forgot the pain and let himself fall into Heron's arms.

"Oh...Ryder." Heron cried. "This whole mess..."

"It's not your fault."

"You could've lived. You could have let Atlas take your place."

"But then you would be here, all alone." He said, brushing her hair.

Within the next few minutes, the echoes of Heron's sobbing could be heard throughout the forest.

* * *

The dagger stabbed into the dirt next to Alexander's head.

"You ugly fuck!" Atlas yelled, smashing the rock into his opponent's head, jarring his vision and breaking one of his teeth. "Every single one of you confident bitches think you can sit up here in the fucking mountains and watch while the rest of us beat each other with fragments of our broken bones!" Atlas yelled, smashing Alexander's face once more.

Alexander tried to fight back, but Atlas was literally sitting on top of him, and he felt like a boulder. He stretched for the knife in dirt next to him, but Atlas snatched it away.

"Naughty, naughty. We want you to suffer a nice long death, don't we?" Alexander cursed his luck, spitting out a tooth as Atlas punched him in the face not once, but twice; quick, sharp jabs that felt him feeling like his face had been run over by a truck.

In Atlas's moment of bloodlust, Alexander swung his foot around and smashed his foot into Atlas' hip. He yelled, releasing Alexander for the split second that allowed him to push Atlas away and jump up to his feet. He threw a punch at Atlas, which literally knocked him off of his feet and towards the small spring. The torn tarp hung from above, having been partly destroyed by Atlas earlier.

Alexander easily defended himself from Atlas. The only reason he had gotten him in the first place was by surprise, but even then, he had overcome the little bastard.

Alexander's knee slammed into Atlas' groin, who ended up squeaking out like a little girl. His fist swung weakly at Alexander, but it was a horrible shot. Alexander blocked it aside and kicked Atlas in the gut.

"Don't have anything to say?" Alexander smirked, punching Atlas in the face again. Blood flecked his face and Alexander pummeled Atlas, beating him like a Peacemaker against a market thief. Atlas lay there motionless. Caught up in the moment, Alexander let go, sighing. But then he remembered.

No cannon.

He never saw Atlas kick him. He just noticed the sudden cold around him and realized that he was sinking into the spring. He struggled for the surface, when Atlas, stumbling to the edge of the water, tore the knife from his neck and slashed through the support, collapsing the tarp on top of Alexander.

Atlas grinned. The bastard was dead. He heard the cannon go off, and he sighed. Then he noticed the pain.

Twenty-five seconds later, Atlas Sydai collapsed into the dirt, dead.

**Author's Note: Ouch. Triple Death. RIP Cannan Thrush, Alexander Van Der Donck, and Atlas Sydai. Next chapter, there will be one definite death and there may or may not be another...it all depends on the reviewers...I need to add some points up. I'll do it in the morning.**


	22. We Don't Need Another Siren Song

**Author's Note: Well, I guess I've gotten over my summer laziness and I've gotten back to writing. Hopefully I'll be able to write Town of Arkh in a little bit. As for this story, it's getting closer and closer to the end. This story is still during the fifth day of the Games (Atlas and Alexander have just died). Ryder has gotten a little bit of help in the form of a loaf of Capitol bread and a medicine that will (hopefully) save his life. Let's see how it goes!**

Answer: Jackson Burma was the victor of the 75**th**** Hunger Games.**

**Sponsor Question: Name all six members of the Career group (dead or alive).**

**Jackson Burma – Training Center Basement**

The scene in front of me was a grisly sight. The body of Kharell Sands was torn into pieces, probably evidence of another kill by Adrien. Blood and sawdust mixed together on the floor – this area of the Training Center was being renovated.

We haven't been in here very long, but now only one more of us has to die before the rest of us are let out. I know this because of the reports on the televisions by President Snow. Annabelle Snow, that is.

I don't know why they continued this game after Adrian, or whatever President Snow's first name was, died. This was his little game, and it should've ended after his death. But no, his granddaughter must be just as evil as he was.

I try to remember who has died already. I witnessed Rordan being killed on the first day, but I also know that Kharell is dead from the body in front of me. Adrien Van Der Donck has done most of the killing. Brennen Berra and Remy Jordan are also out for the count.

Hanger Serra is still alive. He's an elusive figure, and I remember watching his brutal games, where he trapped the last tribute in a pit and impaled him on a makeshift spear. I was pretty sure that he was hiding somewhere in the Center right now, riding out this horrible event with a big supply of food. I was sure it was him that raided the kitchen when this first started.

Adrien Van Der Donck would probably be the victor here if President Snow had only chosen to let one of us live. He's a huge guy, strong and well built, which is kind of surprising since he's from the medicine district. He ripped a tribute in half with his bare hands during the 72nd Hunger Games. He's a brutal person. I don't want to be anywhere near him.

Xavier Jarr is an old man, but so far he's actually put up a bit of a fight. I know he's the one that killed Remy, so I'm kind of wary of what kind of strength he has. I don't trust him, though. He's usually silent, the kind of person you'd might want to have in an alliance. But in his Games, he stabbed his ally through the forehead, just killed her outright. Who knows if he felt grief or not…

Laemon Star seems like a nice enough person. I wasn't around for her Games either, but I have heard the stories. The 73rd Games were in the desert, and during almost the whole Games Laemon had hidden in a small crevice. A tribute had wandered down there, looking for shelter, and she had garroted him. Cut his head straight off. She seemed okay, but who knows if she still had those brutal instincts…

Merma Bracken was a weak, frail woman. She was addicted to morphling, and I was sure that she would be the next mentor to go. She could barely defend herself, which might have been why her two tributes had died so early on this year. She probably hadn't taught them well enough.

I had no idea where Lover Boy had gotten off too. I had only seen Peeta Mellark when this whole thing had first started. He was famous for the 74th Games, in which he had rebelled against the Capitol along with Katniss Mellark (formerly Everdeen), who was also mother to his two children: Ryan, who was currently in the Games, and Emily, whose last tribute year would be during the 100th Games. Peeta was lucky his whole family had survived. The only reason they did was because of the distraction of my own Games…

The rebellion of the 75th Hunger Games never got enough steam for it to rise up to its full potential. But the Capitol crackdown resulted in death from every district. I had been astounded when I had gotten back from the arena. So many of my friends…dead.

I turned the corner, coming face to face with Adrien Van Der Donck. The sneer on his face was wide, blood smeared over his clothing. He grinned, his hands clenching into fists.

"Oh, fuck." I turned back towards the direction I had come from and ran for my life. Adrien was probably hot on my heels. I headed for the stairs that led back up to the main level. Something hit me heavily in the back and I went tumbling forwards. Before I could get back up, I heard someone scream and a slicing sound. Blood splattered all around me, covering the tile floor. I stared in horror back up at Adrien.

He tossed Merma Bracken's dead body to the side, smiling. But then something happened. The intercom fizzed on, and Annabelle Snow was talking to us through the speakers.

"Congratulations, you sick excuses for human beings. You were able to kill five others in less than a day. Wonderful. Now that you've seen how violent you can be to your fellow mentors, the front doors to the Training Center have been opened. According to the media, you were stuck in here for a day, and a few rogue mutations tore you apart one by one, until you were able to kill them. Anything told otherwise, and you will be dead faster than you can say 'help.'"

I gulped. Adrien stood up straight, cracking his knuckles.

"Well, little man. You made it through this." He said, smiling.

**Heron Rockon – Rushing Woods**

The sound of something metal hitting the rock that sat in front of our small camp woke me up. I crawled towards it, ignoring the shiny seal on it, tearing the silver parachute aside. The package was wrapped in a rough, brown paper that was warm to the touch.

I ripped it open and sitting inside, on a platter made of some kind of smoked fish, was a loaf of the same bread I had eaten in the Capitol. Without even thinking, I quickly ripped off a piece of bread and took a piece of the fish and just shoved them in my mouth. I let out a little gleeful squeak.

Ryder grunted as he tried to pull himself up from his spot beside the rock.

"Here. A sponsor got us some bread." I slowly fed him, ripping open the bread and putting a piece of fish inside it. He slowly chewed it thoughtfully.

"It tastes like salmon." He muttered. I smiled, taking another bite of the bread. We both laughed, mouths full of delicious food that we thought we would possibly never taste again. "I swear, Heron…I never could've imagined a better night." The sun was right on the horizon, a perfect sight.

The Capitol anthem began to play, and I remembered that I really had no idea who was alive. I hoped Atlas was dead, that bastard, but I really had no idea. I had only seen the hovercraft display on the first night.

Once again, I heard something hitting the rock. I crawled over to it. It looked like some kind of toothpaste roll. I tried opening it, and was surprised when the top popped off. Inside was a syringe…the name of some District 6 company on the side.

"No…" I grabbed it and rushed back over to Ryder, who was busy eating more of the bread. "Look!" I managed to choke out. He looked up, and a look of glee spread across his face.

"Could it be the medicine?" He asked. I smiled.

"I really hope it is…can I…inject you?" he laughed.

"Don't hurt me more than I can bear." I popped the end of the plunger off and pricked the needle, and splashed a minute amount of the liquid on his leg.

"C'mon already…" I jabbed the syringe into his leg, and he let out a small cry of pain. I bit my lip and injected all of the liquid inside the vial into his leg. He got a concerned look on his face for a moment, and then he passed out.

"Ryder?" I muttered. "Oh...Ryder."

I laid my head against his leg. I looked up at the stars, and I noticed that the seal of Panem was floating up in the sky, presumably being projected by a hovercraft. The anthem played, loud and clear, and I knew it was now time to display which tributes had died today. They showed the number of tributes left: 11. But Atlas had told me that Thor was still alive. And he had been counted dead...was that 12 left, then?

The first face up in the sky was Cannan Thrush. I had expected him to last longer. He must have been injured, and possibly could have held on just until now?

The second face was Alexander Van Der Donck, and I was really surprised by that. I would have thought that Alexander would have made it to the very end, very possibly being the victor. Who could have killed him?

The last face satisfied my anger. It was Atlas Sydai, on the first day of training, still wearing that smug smile. I had never really liked him, and I had been wary of him since we had first made our alliance. I was glad that he was dead.

So, that was it. The fourth day was over...

**Safin S. Bayview – Career Camp**

Conan smiled, looking up at the sky. Alexander, one of the biggest threats, was dead. He totally ignored the death of Atlas Sydai and turned back to talk to Swan and I.

"Well, who's next?" he smiled, his black eyes shining by the firelight.

"Jeez, slow down for a second." I muttered. "Well, our biggest threat is down. Now, let's carefully plan out our next move..."

"Shut up! Just shut up! I don't need your bullshit!" I glanced at Swan, then looked backwards uneasily over the cliff. "You stop for a second. I need to think this out..."

"Thor isn't dead..." Swan muttered.

"I know that, you stupid bitch." muttered Conan, still obviously in "deep thought." I prayed that he didn't go berserk over just Alexander's death. "But who else is a threat that's still alive."

"Rupert." I muttered, thinking of the thick, strong District 7 tribute. I glanced over at Anna, who was rubbing her ankle.

"Right..." Conan said, still thinking.

"Well, are we setting a trap, or..." Swan started.

"Shut the fuck up!" yelled Conan. Swan shied back. I bit my lip. I knew my thoughts about leaving the Careers with Anna had to be final. This could no longer go on. Flare just sat calmly by the fire, sharpening her spear.

"I'm not just a stupid bitch, you know!" yelled Swan, tears starting to spill from her eyes. Conan's teeth gnashed together.

"I swear..."

"Swan..." I muttered.

"Yeah, why don't we go kill Flare? She's an easy target!" mimicked Swan. Flare frowned. Rage flared in Conan's eyes.

The next few moments passed by in a blur. Conan's hand flew across Swan's face, leaving a bright red mark. Flare winced, and Conan just clenched his fist and stomped back to his tent, which they had conveniently found at the Cornucopia.

I walked over to the campfire and sat next to Anna.

"What would you say if I said we should leave?" I whispered into her ear.

"I might say yes." she whispered back.

"Just like you might say yes that you love me?" she laughed.

"Of course." She kissed me lightly on the lips, motioning for me to be quiet. I laid my head back against the pillow on the cot behind us. She laid next to me, and soon enough, Flare had put out the fire and all of us were asleep, including Swan. I slept silently, and I would have gotten a good sleep if the crumbling of cliff rock hadn't woken me.

**Author's Note: Okay, I lied. Next chapter, there will be one definite death. Ryder has been saved from certain death, but who knows how he'll recover. Thanks to skgirl and jamesss for helping him. Just so you know, I'm going to list the remaining tributes and their conditions:**

**Anna Garys, injured (from shrapnel at bloodbath, and twisted her ankle climbing up the waterfall).**

**Safin S. Bayview, slightly injured (cut from Atlas at the bloodbath).**

**Conan Becker, uninjured**

**Swan Tindle, uninjured (apart from Conan's slap)**

**Flare Heartforth, uninjured**

**Thor Vang, heavily injured (twisted ankle, large gash on his back, multiple cuts, bruise on forehead from Atlas, and ripped tendon on arm due to Rushing Mutt, saltwater in certain wounds)**

**Heron Rockon, slightly injured (bruise from falling on the waterfall)**

**Ryder Josker, heavily injured (large chunk of flesh missing from shoulder, various cuts on his body from gravel)**

**Rupert Stevens, uninjured**

**Bea A. Dechers, uninjured**

**Prophet Thenidiel, uninjured**

**Ryan Mellark, slightly injured (from avalanche)**

**I hope that covers everything. Tell me who your favorite tribute is, and answer the sponsor question (it's easy enough).**


	23. Fall of the Careers

**Author's Note: Well, that last chapter was a simple one. But from here on out, it's going to get a bit more complicated. Some external objects are going to come into play (maybe you can guess what they are?) and there will be more than one gruesome tribute death to come. No news of the mentors in this chapter, but Ryder recovers and someone will suffer a 300-esque death.**

**Answer: Marcus, Flare, Conan, Safin, Swan, Anna**

**Sponsor Question: Name the "external object" I was talking about (it's a weapon that will be introduced soon).**

**More heavy cursing in Swan's section…and a lot of it…**

**Safin S. Bayview – Career Camp**

Little wisps of flame embers swirled around my bare face. They danced back and forth, threatening to give me a small shock if they happened to touch my skin. But the cold mountain air blew them quickly away towards the waterfall. I could faintly hear the water crashing down into the pool far below.

I cracked my knuckles, rubbing the edge of the blade handle with the flat of my index finger. I gripped it tightly and then scraped it downwards along the edge of the walking stick. Pieces of bark and sawdust flew through the air.

Anna just sat on a tarp, staring at me intensely with her light brown eyes, a few strands of her light blonde hair covering her face. There was a small scar at the edge of her lip where she had been biting it, probably out of habit.

"What happened to your lip?" I asked, curious. She blushed, trying to cover her mouth with her hand.

"It's this old habit I had as a little kid." She mumbled. I couldn't hear her that well because of her hand, but she soon lowered it when I pressured her. "It kind of started up again when Cain exploded at the Cornucopia." I smirked, remembering that.

Short, fat-ass Cain falling off of his platform, as the Capitol had neglected to take away Conan's small wooden ball, even though they probably knew it could be used for a weapon. Who knew what the Capitol mentality was.

That shrapnel had knocked Anna off her feet, but luckily, she had been okay. If she had died, it would be impossible to tell what I would have done…

"Well, it does make your face less attractive." I said, sticking my tongue out at her. She frowned.

"Whatever. I know that I'm still so fabulous no matter how I look." Flare snorted, gazing into the fire pit, which was now releasing embers into the air, cooling off from the long night.

"Think whatever you want, District 7." She sighed. "That guy is yours permanently." I smiled weakly.

"I don't buy it." Anna said, getting up from the tarp from where she sat. She slid on the log next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"You should be more careful." I said, waving my whittling implement in her face. "I have a dangerous weapon." She laughed.

"Whatever it is, it can't compare to Conan the Barbarian over there." Conan smiled an evil grin, and Anna's smirk dropped.

"But you're too confident." Said Anna, staring solemnly at Conan.

"And? Is there a problem with that?" said Conan, sneering. I sighed.

"No." muttered Anna.

"Whatever. You two lovebirds stay up and talk, I'm going back to bed." He said, reaching for the zipper on the tent next to him. The only tent, I might add.

"Dude. You just woke up." Flare retorted.

"Yeah, so what. I'm sleepy." The fifth day had started. It was about ten o'clock in the morning, but I hadn't managed to get much sleep at all. The thoughts of Swan's near-death experience and my plans for leaving the Careers had kept me up. I wrapped my arms around Anna, and my mouth was brought close to her ear.

"Tonight," I whispered. Her head turned to look at me. A wide grin broke across her place.

"I love you." She said, plainly, and leaned forward to kiss me. Her lips were soft, despite the madness we had gone through in the past few days. I could smell the very last remnants of some sort of perfume. Some of her hair brushed against my eyelashes.

I hugged her now-thinner body, kissing her again on the forehead.

"I will never disagree with you on that." I said sadly. She nodded, a small tear falling from her right eye.

"But we will make it to the end." She said. I nodded, biting my lip. Flare watched this whole interaction with interest. Swan was still asleep. Conan had gone back into the tent. Flare picked up her spear, sighing.

"I wish Marcus was here." She muttered. Conan laughed from inside his tent.

"I don't." he said. "He was a fucking dumbass."

"Shut up, you asshole." Muttered Flare again, as she dropped the spear next to her cot, dust floating into the air from the dirt next to the small mattress-like object. Flare pulled off one of her damp boots, the sock underneath soaked with sweat. Her other boot came off just as easily, and she stuck her half-wet body under the thin blanket and stared upwards at the sky.

"Wake me up at lunch." She said. I sighed into my small disposable cup of water, noticing that Anna had already started to fall asleep. We were all tired, but I knew I couldn't fall asleep. This part was crucial to our plan.

**Swan Tindle – Career Camp**

When I woke up, Conan was in a rage. Safin and Anna had disappeared, along with two packs of food and supplies.

"Motherfucker!" he shouted, upending a half-empty crate of supplies. It turned sideways and fell, tumbling straight off the edge of the cliff. I heard it land far below with a loud bang.

"Conan! Calm down!" yelled Flare, dodging some article of clothing that he threw at her. He gnashed his teeth, smashing another box to smithereens. Small splinters of wood flew into my face, and I spit one out that almost gets stuck between my teeth.

Conan falls down on his ass into the mud, his face turning almost purple with rage. I clench my fists, walking over to him.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up shut up! You fucking baby!" I yell in his face. "Screaming is not going to get them to come back!" My knuckles turn white from the pressure that I'm putting on them.

"Step the fuck back!" He screams, literally swatting me aside. He pulls himself up from the mud, his mouth wide open as he tries to fill his lungs with air. "Listen, bitch." He turns to me. "You don't tell me what to do. I decide what we do around here." Flare snorts.

Conan's eyes flit left.

"Listen, Mister High and Mighty," Flare says, stepping closer to him. "If you could calm down, maybe we would actually have a chance of finding them. All of your shouting has no doubt alerted every last tribute, and those two are probably far away by now. Are you happy?" I could literally say that Flare's eyes were staring into Conan's soul.

Conan's rage started to fade, and then he started cursing himself.

"You're kidding me, right?" He said.

"No, Mr. Douchebag. You are a dumbass. I don't know why you can't see that." He glared at me, biting his lip. He stood up, towering over me. His black eyes stared into my own.

"Say that…one…more…time…" I looked him straight in the face, sneering.

"I said, DOUCHE-BAG." That purple rage spread over his face again, and suddenly his leg rose up from where he had planted it on the rock, and hit me straight in the stomach. I windmilled backwards, tripping over one of the rocks that made up the edge of the cliff. A look of surprise flittered over Conan's face.

There was nothing I could do. I tumbled over the edge of the cliff, my arms and legs flailing. Little pieces of rock and sand flew by my face. Streams of gibberish came out of my mouth; I couldn't tell what I was saying. The Cornucopia rushed up below me. Two words came out of my mouth before I hit it.

"The twins." My body slammed into the Cornucopia. Anybody watching would've seen my arm literally break in half. The blunt trauma to my head was instant, and so was my death.

**Bea A. Dechers – West Landing**

A loud scream rang out from the direction of the Cornucopia, followed by what sounded like a watermelon breaking apart on a sidewalk.

"Oh, hell, no…" I muttered, pushing myself up off the the ground, trying to gaze through the trees which were determined to block my vision. Prophet's eyebrows raised a little as he twiddled a small twig back and forth between his fingers.

"Shut up." I muttered. It had sounded like a girl. I heard the cannon go off, and then somebody else yelled in horror, which was followed by a roar of triumph. I turned to Prophet.

"Just…stay here…okay? If I'm not back by the fireworks, then don't stay here. If you hear a cannon…well, then I don't know." Prophet started to raise from his place on the log, but I stopped him.

"I'll be right back." I pulled my backpack up from the ground, pausing to pick up the dagger Prophet and I had rescued from the dirt. As I started to leave the camp, I paused. On a second thought, I grabbed the vial of poison I'd receive from my sponsors and took off.

Little ferns whipped across my ankles as I raced through the undergrowth, dirt clods flying up from where my boots hit the soil. The trees overhead blocked out most of the sun, but there was just enough light to go by and I could actually see where I was going. Soon enough, I could see the landing that hung over the Cornucopia. Conan the Barbarian stood there, leering over the edge, as Flare Heartforth was hurriedly stuffing items into a rucksack. There was no sign of Swan Tindle, Safin S. Bayview, or Anna Garys. Below on the Cornucopia landing, a battered and broken body sat, the arm literally ripped off at the socket. Conan laughed, turning around and seeing Flare.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he said, advancing towards her.

"Fuck you, Conan. You knew we would have to split up eventually. I guess now is the right time."

"I thought…"

"What, that I liked you? I did that to get on your side. No one sticks together with the Careers for long." She picked up the bag, drawing Conan's sword from the scabbard beside her.

"Hey!"

"This has been coming for too long." The heavily sharpened sword struck through Conan's neck, cutting through the fibers and muscles. He was buffed up from District 2, but this was a District 2 grade sword. The cannon went off, and Flare sneered, grabbing a packet of jerky from Conan's pocket.

I dropped my vial, which shattered on a nearby rock.

Flare looked up, clenching her spear. I started, turning around for the trees. I made it there, but something struck me in the hip, tearing my clothes and my flesh. I stumbled over a rock, falling through the undergrowth that I had disturbed on my way up here. Burrs and thorns stuck in my skin, and a large gash opened up on my hand. I managed to get back up, but nobody tackled me. I stopped. There was no sound but the surrounding animals. Flare hadn't followed me.

Tears fell from my eyes as I tried to walk, but couldn't. I ended up dragging myself along the ground until the camp came into my sight. Prophet's eyes opened wide, and he rushed towards me, dropping the firewood he was carrying. Blood ran from my hip and arm, staining my clothes. I cried out with the pain, and he let me support myself on his shoulder as we made our way back towards the camp.

This was not going to be a good day.

**Author's Note: RIP Conan Becker and Swan Tindle. The next two days (in the fanfic) will be full of no death…and it will go quickly. 5 points to whoever got the song reference.**


	24. Life in Hell

**Author's Note: Sorry guys, this chapter was a bit hard for me to write, but I managed to get through it, although there has been quite a delay. I'll never be able to keep up, and unfortunately there's no deaths in this chapter (yes, that is a bad thing). Four POVs: Ryan Mellark, Safin S. Bayview, Heron Rockon, Flare Heartforth.**

**Current Alliances:**

**Flare Heartforth**

**Bea A. Dechers/Prophet Thenidiel/Ryan Mellark**

**Safin S. Bayview/Anna Garys**

**Heron Rockon/Ryder Josker**

**Rupert Stevens**

**Thor Vang (who I STILL will not be giving away any information on)**

**Ryan Mellark – West Landing**

I came back to the camp to see Bea sitting on a log, bleeding slowly from her arm and hip. Prophet slowly tended the fire, sighing every moment in a while. Bea mopped her forehead with a rag ripped from Prophet's jacket.

"Um…what happened while I was gone?" I asked, stepping forwards. Yesterday, I had left to collect firewood, and had ended up staying out in the forest longer than I had intended. I slept the night in a small cave north of our camp, and had missed the fireworks and death count.

"Conan and Swan are dead. The Capitol announced that Thor Vang had never died in the first place, as it had been a "malfunction" in his data chip. I hardly believe that, though. I got these gashes running away from Flare." Bea sighed. I didn't know whether to be happy or angry. Conan was finally dead, but a tribute had come back from the dead.

The sixth day was apparently going to be a dreary day. It was very cold, and sleet fell in mass amounts as we huddled under Prophet's tent. I'd begin to notice that Prophet actually didn't talk, and that what he had said when we had been in the Capitol was true. He really was mute. Bea acted like his older sister, but I knew that he could probably look out for himself if he wanted to.

Breakfast was a cold meal of what was left of a piece of bread Bea had found (leftovers from the Careers, she guessed) and the last half of a rabbit. I imagined being back in the Capitol, eating to my heart's content, but it wasn't enough to lift my spirits.

Even District 12's strictness and horrible discipline couldn't compare to the arena. The constant thought that you were always being hunted made you forget about everything else, and you began to concentrate on just doing everyday things. It took a bit of motivation to get up and run instead of sitting down and letting death coming to you.

Sometime around 10:00 the sleet stopped, but it was still overcast. I had to hold my jacket tight to prevent any heat from escaping it. Prophet and I tried to start another fire, but the wood was too wet and wouldn't light. I hadn't thought ahead, and none of the wood I had collected had made it into the tent. I cursed, rubbing my gloved hands together for a little warmth.

"Maybe they'll have a blizzard and wipe us all out." I muttered. Prophet shrugged, turning towards our wood pile to see if there was anything dry enough to use as firewood.

Bea told the story of her life while we were waiting for clearer weather and for the wood to get dry.

Her father, Kane, was a researcher for different types of wood fuel, and had experimented with a sap that he had found in a certain tree (Bea said it was some type of oak). He'd killed a squirrel in the backyard, and then become obsessed with different types of poison.

Jale Dechers had died two years ago from carbon monoxide poisoning, but even that didn't stop Kane, and Bea became a bit interested in it as well. She was kicked from school last year after one of her classmates was poisoned by chewing on the end of a pencil he'd borrowed from her.

Kane homeschooled Bea, often including his opinion on different Capitol issues. After Decharius Flow's District 1 victory of the 98th Hunger Games, Kane was whipped in the town square for "dangerous activity." Finally, his obsession with poison stopped, but Bea began to experiment with some of her father's old stuff in the attic.

Which was why a sponsor had sent her a vial of poison, which she had intended to kill Conan with. Flare had done it for her.

She ended her story abruptly, and my stomach growled. It was time for lunch.

**Safin S. Bayview – Thor's Post**

Anna and I came upon what looked to be someone's old camp. There was a bit of tarp stuck between two branches, and in a ditch 20 meters away from this tree there was a rotting mess of three Rushing Mutt bodies in a ditch. She almost threw up, but she looked away just in time and managed to hold it down.

We made camp far away from the ditch, but still near the tree. After I pitched the tent and we had both set up our supplies, it was already 13:00. I looked up at the tree, and decided to look what was left up there.

There was a stray jacket hanging from a branch which I hadn't seen before, and there was more pieces of tarp in the sump of the giant branch. Twigs littered the sump floor, and a piece of the shirt every tribute was issued was on the ground. A streak of blood ran across the tree trunk.

I wondered how long the tribute had spent here. I unfortunately had no way of telling who it had been…well, until I noticed a sort of data chip lying on the edge of the branch.

It was the kind that all tributes had gotten to track our vitals. My first thought was, "Somebody else is still alive?" and then I knew who had been here. Thor Vang, the previously thought dead tribute.

I sighed, scraping bits of moss and wood chips off of my hands. Thor had left quickly, but I didn't know why.

"I have a feeling it might be a bad idea to stay here…" I muttered.

Anna didn't respond, and I looked back out through the tree trunk. She sat there, staring at the mess of blood and gore in another ditch I hadn't seen before. There was a Capitol jacket, one of the jackets that every tribute had been given in the Catacombs.

That made me think about what would happen after the Games were over. People would wander through the Catacombs below the arena, looking at displays, reading reports, and taking pictures with their fancy, flashy cameras. I could imagine one of the captions:

"Safin S. Bayview was killed here, cut down by Thor Vang, who had come back to collect some of his old supplies." On instinct, I turned around to look, but nobody was there. Little beads of sweat popped out on my forehead. I willed myself to calm down.

Anna's thumbs twiddled back and forth, and she looked up at me.

"When are we leaving?" she muttered. I sighed, looking back at the trash in the tree. Soon enough the sun would leave its place high in the sky.

"Now." I picked up my bag that I had left at the trunk of the tree and walked away from the ditch. South. I motioned for Anna to follow me.

**Heron Rockon – Rushing Woods**

Ryder laughed, pushing up the log from its soggy resting place in the soil, where he had laid bleeding for God knows how long. He retrieves the jacket that he had pushed under there when he had been ailing, and comes back to sit with me on the tree stump.

He's recovered wonderfully in only two days. The seventh day was looking good already, as I was trying to roast a rabbit that had been killed by a snare Ryder had managed to set up yesterday. He seems much more fortuitous than the day I had seen him at the Reapings, standing up to Atlas. I hug him tightly, asking if his injuries still hurt.

"No, actually. I feel awesome. I love your sponsors," he smiles. "So, how is this going to work out?" I frown. "I'm not trying to think about the inevitable, but we need to plan."

"I…I don't walk to talk about it now, Ryder. I'm sorry, but I never want to have to choose." I sigh.

"It's the same thing, but when the time comes…"

"Ryder…"

"Okay, fine." He shifts on the log, uncomfortable.

"God, you should have just let Atlas take your place. I don't even know why they allowed that. They allowed a lot of stupid stuff go on this year, but I guess Snow was taking advantage of his old age and I guess he was fiddling around with the Game rules. But now his granddaughter is president, and she already revealed that Thor was still around, and had somehow managed to thwart the system…" I sighed. I held back what I thought were tears.

Ryder bit his lip. "Yeah, but that would leave you all alone out here, wouldn't that?"

"True…but what are they going to do to you if you win?"

"I thought we weren't talking about that." Ryder smiled.

"Oh, shut up." I laughed, shoving him. We fell silent, and a gust of wind blew across the camp, ruffling the branches of the trees surrounding us. A small bluebird swam through the air, flying over our heads in the direction of the coast.

"Tell me that you won't leave me alone." I looked at Ryder, with a small hint of puppy dog eyes.

"I promise." He said, hugging me.

**Flare Heartforth – The Career Camp  
**

I gave up tracking Bea a long time ago. My lunch on the seventh day consisted of a meager box of crackers. Most of the food we had stockpiled was taken by Safin and Anna the day they had ran. Conan, the silly bastard, had wasted most of it that last day, literally binge eating the way to his death. He deserved it, though. If I hadn't killed him, I doubt anyone would've.

Only Conan's tent remains standing, and I've already packed it up, and I'm going to see how far north I can go. I know there must be a barrier. But I also know that the farthest anyone has been is the mountain. I learned that the day Melanie and Cannan died.

I guess it's kind of worth it to be a Career, even if you'll have to break away from the group eventually. And the fact that there can only be one victor.

That brings me to the thought of President Snow and the 74th Games. Katniss (then Everdeen) and Peeta Mellark were allowed to live, even though they had totally defied the rules of the Games. He's let a lot of things go their own way, and I wonder how strict this Annabelle will be. At first I think she can't possibly be stricter than Snow, but I think of the stories of District 11 and I frown.

I trek north through the snow, and the sun begins to dip behind the peaks. Frost blows throughout the air, and my hat fails to cover my ears, which are now freezing cold. Luckily, I still have my hood, and I throw it up top over my head.

I doubt I will win, though. Even if I do, I won't be the one that will be remembered. Everyone remembers the most notorious tribute, and this year I think I can name Thor Vang as the most infamous.

But I don't want to think about the Games anymore, it's a restless and useless activity. I sigh, and it doesn't take me very long to set up the tent in the shelter of a large, shadowy evergreen. I don't have any more of the mats, but I've managed to salvage a blanket from the camp, and I wrap myself up in that. I close up the door, yet wind still blows into the tent. I sigh, thinking it's going to be a very long night.

Yet, as soon as the sun goes down, I fall into a deep, black sleep.

**Author's Note: For some reason, this chapter was hard to write and is overdue. I know this usually doesn't mean anything, but I'm going to try to get the next one up by next week.**

**~Tune in next time~ **

**And stuff.**


	25. Wildfire

**Author's Note: MEANT TO UPLOAD THIS YESTERDAY BUT FANFICTION IS BLOCKED ON MY COMPUTER… **Another slow update today, of course. Someone will die today, and the list of names will get even shorter. This chapter is in 3rd person, again. We're getting very close to the end, and once this story ends I will start straightaway on the 100th Games :)

Prophet woke to the sight of a dark umber sky, the orange and red colors of the sun mixing together to form a sort of potpourri of color floating above the horizon. The smell of burnt meat is in the air, and Bea is at the campfire, slowly poking pieces of tinfoil that sit in the coals.

"Where did you get tinfoil from?" Prophet asked.

"Ryan." Bea stuck her tongue out. "While you were sleeping, Ryan went out to the remains of the Career camp and looked for supplies. He came back with a packet of tinfoil and a bunch of veggies and meat."

"Whatever. Where is he now?" I grumbled.

"He went out a while ago. To go look."

"For what?" Prophet had pretty much given up the signaling, now. It was useless in the games, he thought.

"You do remember the announcement, right?"

"What announcement?"

"The crossbows, Prophet."

"Oh." Bea smiled.

"I guess you can be forgetful."

"Yeah. But what are we going to do with a crossbow?" Bea smiles again.

"We can build a trap near the Cornucopia. The feast will undoubtedly be there."

Bea thought about that, and then her attention turned back to the fire, where the tinfoil was steaming with a bit of condensation. She bit her lip, taking two sticks and pulling the three packets out of the coals. She opened one, and Prophet could see a mixture of a bit of steamed vegetables, some cheese, and a beef patty. She brought out an unopened bag of hamburger buns and wrapped the bread around the tinfoil meal.

"Tada!" she smiled.

"Ha. I wonder where Ryan is..."

Ryan was wandering the forest north of them, looking for any signs of the "surprise" the Gamemakers had promised. He didn't know what to think. The snow was melting, and there were technicolor pools of water everywhere, as if someone had lugged a leaking oil drum across the forest.

The air was getting hot, and Ryan knew there was no way an island in the Arctic Circle would normally get this hot at any time of year. The Gamemakers must be messing with the arena...something bad was coming. Ryan figured the Gamemakers needed someone to die. Nobody had fallen during that last two days...

Ryan felt like a chicken headed towards the slaughterhouse.

Ryan thought about his parent's life during the Games. President Snow had been an evil old bastard then, known for creating vile traps that tore tributes limb from limb. His mother, Katniss, had been one of those at risk. Katniss was sent into the games with his father, Peeta, as her District counterpart. It had gotten down to the final three: a Career named Cato, Katniss, and Peeta. Katniss killed Cato, but she didn't want to kill Peeta. They had tried to commit suicide, but they were stopped by Snow.

That was the cause for the failed rebellion of the 75th Hunger Games. That was when his aunt, Primrose Everdeen, had been killed in the bombing of District 12. District 12 was rebuilt now, but a large section of the city had been destroyed, including Aunt Prim's medical clinic.

Ryan knew the others didn't have great pasts either. Mr. Dechers was a drug addict and he was messing around with dangerous chemicals, so he was taken by the Peacemakers. Bea didn't know him that well, except for what he had taught her.

Prophet had an okay life, but he was always bullied by older kids and he hadn't spoken a word for most of his life. He wasn't that much of a strong fighter either.

That landed a thought in Ryan's mind. Should he? He wasn't sure, but it would sure help later, where he would hopefully have less competition. He really wanted to get home, but could he really kill his ally in cold blood?

The trap was coming soon, Ryan could feel it. Sweat was dripping from his brow, making little droplets on the forest floor. He could swear he even saw flames in the distance. Wait a second...

Farther east into the forest, Flare backed up from the approaching flames. The tree in front of her burst into flames, crashing to the forest floor with a loud bang, throwing pieces of flaming tinder and sticks across the clearing. A burnt stick hit Flare in the face, marking a line of soot across her cheek.

Flames danced in front of Flare's eyes. She bit her lip, trying to get up from the ground, but her ankle was twisted and it hurt like hell. She had medical supplies in her bag, but that was currently being burned to smithereens by the tree on top of it.

"Fuck!" she cursed, dragging her leg as she struggled to get up. She picked up her spear from under a pile of broken wood, which amazingly hadn't been damaged. Smoke filled the air, and Flare choked, her lungs straining to get a good breath of air. She tried to get ahold of herself, but then she tripped over another broken log and got a faceful of dirt.

Smoke swirled around Flare's head, slowly bringing her to her death. She tried to bring her head up, but couldn't. As she gave up all hope, she felt strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her up.

Whoever it was hefted her over his shoulder, navigating through the burning trees, stepping over piles of burnt wreckage. He cursed once or twice, but finally put her down in the shadow of a protected tree. Flare held tightly onto her spear, looking to see who had saved her.

"Why the fuck did I do that? Mother fucking..." muttered Rupert Stevens, staring at his burnt hands.

Back in the western woods, Ryan ran for the camp, fire and explosions clattering behind him.

A pile of gasoline-soaked wood (courtesy of the Gamemakers) exploded, sending Ryan into the still-flaming bushes. He swore he could feel his eyebrows being scorched off.

He screamed in pain, falling backwards through a pile of bracken onto a fallen metal pole. Pain made him arc his back, while Bea and Prophet stared in horror.

"Ryan! What the hell happened?" Bea yelled at him.

"The forest is on fire..." he groaned. He glanced behind him and, sure enough, a steady orange glow was advancing.

Suddenly, another explosion rang out and something rocketed over Ryan's head and slammed into Prophet, knocking his ribcage backwards and smashing him into an ash tree trunk. Blood and blackened wood flew sideways, and Prophet stood there, his mouth open, some metallic thing lodged through his stomach. That's when I recognized it.

It was part of the Rushing Mutt cage we had come across earlier.

The cannon went off and Prophet fell forward, his face in the ash. Bea and I both fell silent, staring at his silent, motionless body. Bea broke the silence.

"WHAT?" she screamed, looking up at the camera that was watching us. "You planned that!" I was speechless. I laid on the ground, waiting, just hoping that cannon had been another tribute's. But it wasn't. Soon enough, the hovercraft came into view and I grabbed our bags and ran away from the camp, Bea in tow.

On the lower part of the island, Heron was enjoying her talk with Ryder.

"It's getting kind of late." Heron smiled, curling up next to Ryder. He laughed awkwardly, wrapping an arm around her. A warm orange glow came from the north side of the island, a sure sign of what Ryder thought was the sunset. Little did he know...

"Ryder?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to leave."

"Me neither. I could stay here forever."

"What do you want to talk about? I'm not that tired."

"For starters, what are you going to say to Hinder when you get back?" Ryder laughed.

"Oh. Well, he's probably watching right now. So what should I tell him?"

"I don't know. You can't resist me, right?"

"Oh, shut up. I don't know what to say..."

"I just want out of the arena," Knowing the cameras were watching us, I whispered into her ear. "Think we could pull a 74er?"

"I don't know. I don't wanna talk about it."

"It's okay. I really don't either."

"Anyways..."

"Ryder!"

"Okay. What would you do with the money, then? If you made it back, that is." I stuck my tongue out at her.

"I don't know. There would still be the whole deal of the Victory Tour to work out. Who knows what Hinder would even say. And if you won?"

"I don't know what I would do with my life. Knowing you had died, that is..." Heron smiled.

"You're sweet. Don't worry, I'll win for you." Ryder smiled again.

"This feels like a cheesy Capitol joke." Ryder laughed. Heron kissed him on the forehead.

"Go to sleep, Ryder." Ryder settled back into the sleeping bag, Heron curled up next to him. If he was going to die, he was making the most of it. The stars were starting to show, and Ryder grinned widely. He felt awesome. The orange glow on the horizon was growing bigger, but for some reason he did not notice it.

Ryder's dreams were a bit crazy. He dreamt of the bloodbath again, swirls of blood and snow clouding his vision. He imagined Heron falling from the waterfall once again. If she had died, Ryder didn't know what he would've done with himself. Probably run straight towards the Careers. Ryder didn't seem to have a hope without Heron.

Heron dreamt of her arrival back in District 3 – if she made it, that is. She imagined Hinder looking disapprovingly at her, and her family just staring, not knowing what to say. A rich life surely wasn't worth going through the trauma of the Games? Some victors seemed to think so.

Ryder woke up with a sort of burning sensation in his legs. He opened his eyes to see that his pantlegs and the surrounding shrubs were on fire. He yelled, swatting at his legs, trying to put the fire out. The tree in front of his groaned, creaking under the flame's destroying presence.

Heron woke up suddenly, startled by Ryder's yelling and the flames dancing in front of her face.

"What's happening?" she yelled.

"Forest fire!" he yelled looking up. "Look out!" Heron was shoved roughly to the side as an almighty groan came from the tree in front of them. The tree crashed down on top of Ryder, his hands covering his face. A loud bang went off, announcing the cannon. Heron screamed, louder and longer than she thought she had ever screamed before. She slowly backed up from the sleeping bag, Ryder's body slowly blazing in the middle of the night. Heron picked herself up, tears dripping from her face, and ran away into the darkness.

During the night, the fire blazed through the island, burning almost all of flora on the island, melting all remains of the snow. The Gamemakers wrenched up the heat, but only two tributes fell at the hands of the fire. Many more were due to die, but that was for another day. Now the tributes had to figure out how to survive the scorching wasteland of an island. There wasn't much time until the end...

On the twelfth day, the last tribute would fall.

**Author's Note: Well, RIP Prophet Thenidiel and Ryder Josker. It's getting pretty close to the end, so you can start placing your bets now :3**


	26. The Tower

**Author's Note:** This chapter is going to be very interesting. I planned this from the beginning, and now I've finally made it to the point where I can write it. Someone will die this chapter, shortening the number of tributes to 7. The Games will be ending soon. If I can stop playing video games to end them.

**Safin S. Bayview - ?**

I woke up cringing, a distant pang of hunger in my stomach and a throbbing pulse coming from a bruise on my left arm. Funny. I don't remember getting any bruises.

The last thing I can remember is running from the forest fire. The fire must've been started by the Gamemakers, I think. Nobody had died in two days. No cannons had gone off, and no hovercrafts had come to pick up dead bodies. That was rather rare in the Games.

My thoughts came back to the present, and that's when I realized I was alone. I was sitting in a dark room of stone, with a single door in front of me. I saw no one else.

"Anna?" I called out. There was no reply. My heart rate jumped a bit. What had happened? I had gone to sleep with Anna in a sheltered ditch, as trees probably weren't the best choice in a forest fire.

Was I dead?

Had some tribute killed me in my sleep?

I doubted it. I felt like I had been battered with a baseball bat, but that was probably from sleeping on a pile of rocks with the lack of a mattress. I tried to get up, but I stumbled and fell back onto the floor. Water dripped from the ceiling onto the back of my neck. The room felt cold and empty. Maybe I was dead.

But then a sound came from somewhere in front of me. I could tell there was someone else in the room. I walked forward.

It was one of the other tributes I had never really bothered to get to know. Bea, or whatever her name was. Her eyes were closed and her breath was drawn in shallow gasps. Well, at least that meant she wasn't dead. Maybe she knew where I was.

And then, finally, I noticed the only window in the room. That's where the light has been coming from, although it hadn't just been one of my concerns before. I rushed up to the window, but it was just a bit too high off the ground. I looked around for something to stand on, but then my gaze paused when I saw another person in the opposite corner. This tribute was dead.

I gulped. It was Swan, my District partner. I hadn't really talked to her much, and I knew she was having a conflict with Conan before I escaped with Anna. Her body was covered in bruises, and it smelled like someone had dumped a vat of formaldehyde on top of her.  
I could guess that she had fallen down the cliff. There was a giant piece of rock going through her middle, and maybe even Conan had pushed her off. I was trying very hard to resist the urge to throw up. I averted my eyes, and they rested on a crate near Swan. Holding my breath, I walked next to her and picked it up. It was an old fishing crate, probably taken from a polluted river somewhere in Panem.

I put the crate in front of the window, checking to see if Bea had stirred yet. She hadn't.

I climbed up on top of it, looking out the frosted window at the arena beyond. I was confused. Where the hell were we? The window showed a view from high above the eastern waterfall, but it certainly wasn't on the mountain…

The tower. That large, looming tower which I had only really glanced at once or twice. We were inside the tower, in some sort of new game.

I heard a rustling noise next to me, and I turned to see Bea sit up, rubbing her forehead.

"You? What…" Bea groaned, a burn on her neck looking quite painful. "Where am I?"

"You know that tower on the north side of the island? That's where we are."

"You brought me here?"

"No…I don't know who did…" That's when Bea noticed Swan's body.

"What the fuck?"

"She was my District partner…" Bea paused for a moment.

"Is this some sick Capitol game? What are we supposed to do?" I shrugged, walking over to the door, intending to open it. It was locked.

"Great. We're stuck in here. But I assume that will say something soon." I said, pointing to the intercom speaker above the doorway. Sure enough, in a few seconds it crackled to life.

"Hello, tributes. What you are experiencing is the winner of last week's contest: Create-Your-Own-Arena, on . The Gamemakers and I have agreed that we should incorporate this wonderful idea by Terra Xenon into the Games themselves. You can thank her once you make it out of the Games!"

"Well, isn't that wonderful." Bea grumbled. She looked uneasily at Swan's dead body, glancing back and forth between myself and her.

"Did you know her?"

"Yeah…she was my fellow tribute. Didn't know her that well, though. I guess Conan must've killed her."

"They'll reveal it all at the end of the Games. That is, if one of us makes it out of here."

"You suggesting an alliance?"

"Until you find your girlfriend." I half-cringed, half-laughed. I don't know if it was a good or bad thing that all the others tributes knew of my relationship with Anna. I sighed, picking up the rusty sword on the floor next to me. Rusty or not, it served some use to me.

I pushed past the door into the next room, wary of whatever might be hiding around the corner. I saw no one, and motioned for Bea to follow me. She practically ran in behind me.

"Give me the flashlight." She said, rather loudly. I looked at her harshly, and she put her hands up in defense. I heard a noise, but no one came closer.

I waited for about five more minutes, but nobody ever came.

**Flare Heartforth – The Tower**

I crept through the dark hallways of the tower, old slime and moss dripping down from the ceiling, making a plitter-platter sound on the stone floor. The tower was a dark and empty place, sounds echoing back and forth from all over the place. It was very disorientating, and I had already lost track of where I had started.

According to the announcer, one trap would have had to be sprung and one tribute have had to been killed before the door back to the cliff would open.

I clutch my spear tightly against my chest, and I can hear my heart thudding inside my nutrivion-deprived body. Sweat rolls down my arms and legs. Every once in a while it feels like someone is approaching, but then I turn the corner and nobody is there. I make a mental list of who is still alive.

Heron Rockon is still going strong, as I was able to see the fireworks last night before I passed out. Her boyfriend's dead now, so I'm not sure how much of a fight she'd put up.

Safin S. Bayview is still alive and still going strong. He's one of the few I'm worried about, although Anna could be used to my advantage.

Thor Vang, that mysterious bastard, is still somewhere among us. I don't know what to think about him, although he could pose a threat.

Rupert Stevens, as far as I know, hasn't killed anyone. He was one of the people I was worried about in training, but now he just seems like a pussy.

Anna Garys is always clutching Safin close, and it would have to be an elaborate trap in order to lure her out away from him.

Bea A. Dechers would be a cakewalk, if she would stop running long enough for me to kill her.

And then there's Ryan Mellark. Wonder Boy. Now I know who my target is. Bea is probably still teamed up with him, and that'll earn me a double kill and a better shot at going home.

I'm really starting to hate the Capitol now.

Somewhere in front of me, I hear someone scream and the twang of a crossbow. That's funny, I had thought Conan had found the only one. I dismantled it the night before I left. I doubt anyone else would be competent enough to fix it. I guess there was more than one crossbow in the arena.

There's a few more shots, but no more screams. Then silence. No signs of any cannons. I creep along the black rock wall. Then I catch a glimpse of someone running. It's Ryan Mellark. With a crossbow.

"Shit." I curse under my breath. He ran straight past me, eyes wild and his feet taking him along as fast as they can. He stops underneath one of the overhanging pillars, holding the crossbow against his chest while he tries to catch his breath.

For a second he looks scared, fear passing over his eyes as he scans the room, looking for any potential threats.

I realize this must be the central chamber of the tower. Ten pillars stand in a circle, and Ryan peeks around one, checking his crossbow and slowly but surely loading bolts into it.

I think I have a sort of epiphany when I look at him, and I know this is the time to kill him. In the small, dusky, cramped space of the tower, he wouldn't be able to run far, and none of his allies were with him either. If he had any, that is.

A bolt drops to the floor and bounces, skidding across the floor and coming to rest near my feet. He looks up, but I pull myself back behind the pillar. I hear his footsteps as he walks forwards. I bite my lip, picking up the crossbow bolt from the floor and backing into the shadows. His boot-clad feet tap on the stone floor.

I turn the corner, intending to get behind him, but he's facing my way already.

"Hello, Flare." He smiles, stepping forward. His foot sinks down and he frowns, and in the next moment a spear comes flying out of an open panel in the wall, going straight through his throat and exiting the other side. Small flecks of blood stick to my face, and I gulp down a breath of air as he slumps down to his side and the cannon goes off.

I hear a grating sound and bright light comes from somewhere to my left. I look at where Ryan stepped, careful not to go anywhere near it. The grating sound stops, and I can see the bright white clouds of the arena again. It's raining hard outside, small bits of hail coming down, forming a sleet mixture. I laugh, stepping out of the tower.

Nobody sneaks up on me, and so I just waltz right down the slope towards the waterfall. Funny, I don't remember the slope being there before. Before, the tower had just been on a cliff, all by itself.

I shrug, and then I notice what has happened to the forest. Instead of a lush green evergreen forest, in its place stands a large group of spindly black sticks. Practically no trees are left, only the husks of tree trunks. Dead plants and animals litter the ice on the ground, and pine needles are scattered everywhere. I notice that there's open pinecones on the forest floor. At least the trees will eventually regrow.

Rain splashes onto my face, and I brush aside my hair, walking past the slope and down the cliff walkway towards the waterfall. I've survived this long in the arena, and frankly, I'm ready for whatever the hell it throws at me next.

**Author's Note: Well, we're getting closer and closer…and then I'll be able to start my…masterpiece?**


	27. Serial Killer

**Author's Note: My computer's being stupid, plus I have exams, and yet I'm updating faster than I usually do. Wtf, logic.**

**Bea A. Dechers – The Tower**

Everything hurts. My head burns, my skin is stinging. My leg is missing, for god's sake. That stupid trap got me…and Safin left me alone to go after Ryan, who was the one who sprung the trap.

I'm not sure what day it is. I think it's Day Eleven. I've sat here in the tower for a day and a half, and I'm very slowly bleeding out. I've eaten and drank what I can from the broken pack sitting near me, but it hurts to move. I doubt I'm going to make it out of the arena. I also know someone else has died since my leg was cut off. I hope it's Ryan.

There's not much of us left now. The speaker told me that. The speaker is my only source of information in this…prison. A stench of rotting bodies is coming from down the hallway. Or maybe it's what's left of my leg.

Tears stream from my eyes. I can't believe he just left me here. But I guess he was just concerned for the girl he liked. No help for another tribute he had teamed up for an hour or so. Not only was this place my prison, this place will be my grave, as well.

I can feel the health leaching out of me. I've gotten feeling back in my limbs, and an hour ago I was able to crawl without hurting too much. As least Safin stopped to help me with my leg.

He sacrificed his jacket for my leg. He tore a large strip from it and tied it tightly to stop the blood circulation, and then gave me the jacket and told me to hope for the best. I cried after that.

I end up crawling towards the light. Hopefully the light will save me. Maybe there's medical supplies somewhere. What was this tower used for anyways? I don't know. I don't care.

I laugh. I sound delirious, but I don't give a damn. I look for a camera, because I know the people from the Capitol are watching me suffer. In fact, they're the reason I'm suffering in the Games. Fucking Capitol.

I wish that Prophet had been with me. He's dead now, though. Seeing as how there's dead bodies in here, I bet his corpse is resting in a corner not far from where I am. Blood leaks from my leg, and I cry out. I know I can make it to the light…

The speaker above me crackles.

"Hello, tributes. I know all of you are in dire need of something, let it be a supply of food, clothes, or a new leg. But don't worry. If you are able to make it," I cringed. "You will get just what you need!" I doubted it. It's not like I'd be able to just clip on an artificial leg.

"It's all sitting at the Cornucopia, waiting for you. Tributes, I invite you to the feast!" I sighed. Well, maybe I'd be able to make it out the door.

I noticed the dead body as I crawl towards the door. Hmmm, I wonder what caused that…

The floor sinks down under my feet and there's a whistling sound, and I never know what hits me as the cannon goes off.

**Thor Vang – The Burnt Forest**

The Cornucopia gleams below me, much in contrast to its surroundings. Ash drifts down from the corpses of evergreen trees, some of it getting in my eyes. I cough, brushing away the ash flecks, looking down at the Cornucopia. There haven't been any deaths the last day or so, ever since Ryan died in the tower. But the Capitol plans to change that. I can see the stuff at the Cornucopia. They're planning a feast.

Sure enough, an announcement goes out:

"Hello, tributes. I know all of you are in dire need of something, let it be a supply of food, clothes, or a new leg. But don't worry. If you are able to make it, you will get just what you need!" I laughed. I guess I was the one that needed clothes.

My shirt was totally gone, my upper body pitted with a few scabs and even more cuts and scars. My pants didn't exist below my knees, and there was one long gash on the left pantleg from when I fell out of a tree. My right sneaker hung very loosely from my foot.

I laughed, looking at my reflection in a puddle of water. I looked horrible. My image was a sorry one.

Right then, a cannon went off, startling me. Well, I guess that means there's only six of us left. I have no idea who's dead, though. I haven't seen Bea or Rupert in the arena, although I sincerely doubt Rupert, Flare, or Safin are dead. Maybe Anna, or Bea, or Heron. I don't know.

There's a commotion below me. It's getting hard to see, and I see the sun's dipping behind the horizon. I can't see what's going on below. I sigh, guessing I should get down to the Cornucopia before someone steals my stuff. I climb over the edge of the cliff.

On an impulse, I look below me. It's a bad decision, and I sway back and forth. My stomach hurts, but I still manage to keep my grip on the cliff. I squint my eyes to shield them from the falling dust. Luckily, no rocks fall to alert my presence. I guess that's a good thing.

I slowly make my way down the rock wall, stopping every time I feel a lose rock or lose my footing. Slowly but surely, I make my way to the Cornucopia. In about two minutes, I'm down at the bottom, and I can see the Cornucopia in front of me.

To my left is Flare, sneaking alongside the treeline. I see the podiums where we stood when we first got to the arena. On the snow near me, there's a blackened podium, and I know immediately that I'm standing near where Cain Ceders was killed by Conan.

That's when I notice dirt and snow flung all over the place near the two podiums closer to me. On closer inspection, I see there's around five holes dug in a circle around the podiums. Three podiums have been...excavated. What the hell?

Then I nearly fall off my feet when I see the small potato-shaped mines covering the area around the Cornucopia. I've heard of tributes doing this before, mostly ones from District 3 with explosives experience. I think back to who could've dug them up.

Ryder was incapacitated the last time I saw him, and he might've even died from his injuries. Or maybe in the wildfire. But it wasn't him.

I doubt Heron ever left Ryder's side, either, which leaves Atlas. He was a bitch, but thank God he's dead now. It must've been him, then...so, the Gamemakers just left his mines here? Great.

I bite my lip, and I know someone is going to step on one.

**Flare Heartforth – The Cornucopia**

It's hard getting used to no allies. I always have to keep watch, and my last night or so has been spent in a tree. No rowdy campfire fights, no joking, no sharing a laugh with fellow tributes. It was kind of sad.

I see the Cornucopia in front of me. Despite the fading light, it's still gleaming, covered with melting heaps of snow. I kneel behind a bush, making sure to watch all sides to prevent anyone from attacking me.

The cannon startles me. My eyes dart left and right, looking to see who it could've been. I wait a minute or so, but no hovercraft comes. I guess not everybody decided to come to the feast, and they got the consequence.

Maybe it's a mandatory party.

Motion up on the cliff face catches my attention. There's someone climbing down the rock, stopping every few seconds or so. It's Thor Vang...interesting.

I haven't seen him in absolutely forever. I'd been starting to wonder if the Capitol's "announcement" had been wrong. I guess it wasn't.

He drops down into the grass and hides near one of the big trees on the edge of the Cornucopia clearing. He looks straight at me, but it doesn't look like he knows I'm returning his stare.

Thor looks out towards the Cornucopia, and then a look of horror spreads across his face. Darting my eyes sideways, I look for something he could've seen. I see nothing...except a giant black axe stuck into a tree trunk right about where Marcus Lain died. I can imagine a chalk outline on the ground, like they have in Capitol crime shows.

I go to look back at Thor, but he's gone. Weird.

I can tell the rest of us are here. No matter how many tributes left, they're all here. Now is my chance, although I'm not going to go for the axe. I'd drop that in a second and probably split my foot in half. No, I'm going to the rack of throwing daggers next to the axe.

In all, there's the axe, the throwing daggers, three backpacks, a food package, and a shield. Too bad I can't take it all.

Under my breath, I count to three.

"On my mark...Ready..."

"Get set..."

"Go!" I hiss, sprinting out from under the bush towards the Cornucopia. I make it about five feet before something hard slams into my side, knocking me to the ground. I look up. It's Safin. He smiles.

He kicks me in the stomach, hard. I cringe, feeling a cracked rib under my skin.

"You bitch." I hiss, jumping up onto my feet, getting ready to tackle him. He takes a defensive stance.

"Wait!" someone shouts, but it's too late. My arms wrap around his wait and he falls backwards. The next thing I know excruciating pain flows through my body and I hear what sounds like a barrage of cannons.

**Anna Garys – Cornucopia**

I watch in horror as Safin topples backwards onto the small, dark shape on the ground, which I hadn't seen before he left. There's an explosion and the sound of two cannons simultaneously explodes in my ears. The dust settles and I see Safin's charred body, along with the corpse of Flare.

"No!" I scream, and almost run forward when I remember I'm not the only tribute left. I scurry under the bush, tears flowing from my eyes.

I loved Safin. He was really funny, and wasn't a real jerk like the other Careers were...well, maybe excluding Swan. I couldn't believe he was dead. Maybe this was just another bad dream, like the tower. I had thought I had seen Bea's leg get cut off, but I wasn't sure.

Maybe I hadn't dreamed that either. But I'm sure she would've been dead. There hadn't been any cannons until now.

I honestly don't know how all those mines got there. Surely no Gamemaker trap would be that deadly...

Salty tears kept on coming, dripping onto my arena-stained jacket. I could hear people fighting near the Cornucopia. I risked a peek around the corner of the tree.

Rupert Stevens had torn that axe straight out of the tree trunk, and was swiping it back and forth at Heron Rockon, who was sprinting around him towards the Cornucopia. Heron managed to get there, jumping and sliding over the table that the backpacks rested on. Rupert slammed the axe downwards, splitting the table in half and sending splinters everywhere. Before Rupert could pull the axe out of the wood, Thor Vang came out of nowhere and jumped onto Rupert's back.

Rupert spun, slamming Thor into the metal wall of the Cornucopia. He let go of his grip around his neck, falling onto the ground. Rupert raised the axe, but Thor rolled out of the way at the last second. He jumped up and punched Rupert in the face, but it didn't seem to do much damage.

I pulled myself from behind the bush, hoping to take out Rupert while he was distracted. Safin's crossbow must be around here somewhere...

I spot it lying on the ground near Safin's body. Blinking back tears, I lift it up. It's astonishingly heavy. I load the bolt and aim at Rupert, but my arms are shaking and I've never fired a gun in my life before. Nervously, I pull the trigger.

Sadly, I don't hit Rupert. But I still hit Thor, who stumbles back when the bolt hits him the the shoulder. The moment that he's distracted, Rupert slams the axe into his chest, breaking his ribs and spraying blood into the air. The cannon goes off and Thor goes down.

I turn to run.

**Author's Note: I had this done about two days ago, but I've been having problems with fanfiction recently. Anyone else? R.I.P. Bea, Safin, Flare, and Thor. Only three tributes left, now...**


	28. Victorious

**Author's Note: Well…it looks like we're finally at the end. Thanks to everyone for sticking by me this whole story. You did do that, right? The victor will be revealed this chapter, and the story will be immediately continued in 26 Rising, which you can find on my profile **

**I hope you're not disappointed with the victor…**

**Heron Rockon** **– The Cornucopia**

I watch as Anna fumbles with the crossbow, trying to load into the bolt. I take cover behind a scattered piece of a crate, and Anna manages to load the bolt and aim at Rupert, her arms shaking and her bangs hanging down in front of her eyes.

She fires the crossbow, but I guess she's not the greatest shot, as the bolt hits Thor Vang in the shoulder. It distracts him for a moment, giving Rupert Stevens the chance to slam his axe down into Thor, splitting his ribcage open. Thor's eyes shoot open; hands clutching at his chest as he falls against the metal wall of the Cornucopia. The cannon goes off simultaneously. Rupert turns and glares in my direction.

At the same time, Anna drops the crossbow, fear in her eyes. She turns, only to come face to face with what seems to be a giant seagull.

"What the hell?" she mutters distracted once again. I turn and run before I end up seeing Rupert murder her.

The grass doesn't feel as soft now as I sprint through the weeds, kicking up snow that splatters against nearby tree trunks. The fading light shines through the empty winter branches, making a collage of shaded color on my cloak. I hear a scream behind me, and on impulse I glance back.

The seagull is a lot more vicious than I would have suspected, and another cannon goes off as Anna is stabbed through the heart by the mutt's elongated beak. Rupert isn't as easily dispatched, and he knocks the gull aside with the axe and begins to trudge through the snow towards my location.

I wish this was a movie of some sort, a horror movie in which the heroine always kills the bad guy. But this isn't some movie with a happy ending. Most likely, I'm going to die by the hands of a stronger tribute. Finn Yang wasn't a small, sneaky tribute, neither were the victors from the 98th or 97th Games. I guess that's why they call it survival of the fittest.

Rupert drops the axe; he must feel like it's slowing him down. In fact, I think he's the biggest tribute this year, and he would've been able to chase me down with a backpack full of rocks. I resist the urge to scream like Hinder did when he got his tooth pulled out.

Rupert's sprinting now; he knows he is one tribute away from winning the Games. I drop the bag I'm carrying, discarding my jacket as I run further away from the Cornucopia.

That's when I come to the waterfall.

"Oh, damn…" I decide against jumping off the small cliff, as I'd be fine if I landed in the water, but if I hit land I'd break my legs and Rupert would be upon me in an instant.

The only way to go is across the river. But I'm not as graceful in water as my namesake is. Who knows what poisons the Capitol could've dumped into the water? I can hear Rupert stomping on the ground behind me, and I begin to get nervous. Is this the end? Is this the point where my life will end? Will Capitolites make fun of my weak resistance?

No. I will not be a pawn of the Capitol. Steroid-Boy is only about ten feet away now, and I know that I have to make my decision immediately.

I look ahead at the rushing water, which cascades straight over the edge of the cliff and splashes down into a large pool, deep enough to avoid injury. I know that from my first run in with the waterfall, at the bloodbath...

Rupert comes rushing up behind me, and I barely have time to react. I try to dodge him but his arm span is too great; all he does is reach to the side and grab me by the waist.

He throws me onto the ground and stomps on my stomach. I cringe, hard, and a little bit of blood comes into my mouth as he kicks me in the chin. Teeth break, but I roll out of the way before he gets the chance to hit me again.

I don't have any weapons, so I do the only thing I can: dive into the river. Small pieces of moss and black twigs swirl around my field of vision, and with horror I realize that the current is way too strong, and I'm being dragged towards the edge of the waterfall.

I hear a giant splash and with even more dread I know Rupert has jumped into the cold, brackish water.

That's when I feel the first bite.

I don't instantly figure out what it is. I look down through the murky water at my ankle, which has a small chunk of skin missing. It stings like hell, and at first I think maybe I caught my leg on some meat hook sitting underneath the water. I look down, only to see a grinning, bug-eyed fish staring back at me. A piranha.

A piranha? Oh, god.

I swim for my life; I do not want to die at the hands of a mutt. Another bite sends pain up my leg, but I'm almost to the other side now. I grab onto what I think is a root and pull myself out of the water, out of the reaches of the mutts.

But then something grabs my leg, and I almost scream. It's Rupert. I practically forgot about him. His nails dig into my injury, and I do scream. He's pulling his way up...

I kick him in the face with my free foot and I hear something crunch. He stares back at me, blood streaming from his nose. I kick him again, knocking him back into the water. Then I see the piranhas swarming all over him. I curl into a ball on the riverbank, staring at the water. The cannon fires.

I sit there for a minute or so before I hear the hovercraft. A ladder hangs down, just like the ones that took me from the Training Center. At first I don't move, but then reluctantly I take hold of it and it freezes me, bringing me upwards into the belly of the hovercraft.

**Grant Sobil – District 7**

Yeula sighed, her spoon dropping into the wooden bowl of oatmeal.

"What are you depressed about?" I laughed. She frowned.

"Yet again, another loss for District 7."

"Whatever, sis. Rupert was a dick, anyway. But Anna...well, that was an unfair death. I honestly think they injected all those mutts at the last minute. Just to speed up things."

"Yeah, I don't see why. The Games lasted twelve days. It ended at 12:13 AM . Nothing special."

I laughed. "You know the stats?"

"Nothing else to do with my free time."

"Chop the wood, then."

"That's your job." she grinned.

"We'll see about that." I picked up my gloves from the table and walked outside, where the first tendrils of winter were starting to show themselves. I sighed. The lumber business was even harder during winter.

Gerard Blackwood was the foreman around here, and personally I thought he was a son of a bitch. All he did was complain about the pay he got, and he's the damn foreman.

I sighed, sitting down on the slightly-dew-stained bench in our backyard.

Well, next year I would have to go through another bout of the Reapings, but luckily Yeula and I were almost out of it. Only a few more years...

On impulse, I decide I'm going to take a walk through the main square. Avoid the bars, though, my father is bound to be there.

I tuck the handle of my hatchet into my belt and slip my fingers into my gloves. My boots are already on, so I don't have to worry about that. Ignoring the glitch music blaring from the house next door, I make my way onto our street and set off for the town square.

When I get there, I'm surprised to see a ton of District 7 residents just idling around, and then I see the giant screen that's come from absolutely nowhere, sitting on a stand in front of town hall.

And on that screen, is Heron Rockon, her ankle repaired but a grim look on her face.

"Residents of Panem..." she starts, and then falters. Someone from offscreen must give her a look, because she looks back at the paper she is holding.

"This is a message from a Capitol. Um..." she looks up again. "It says, 'Be prepared, Panem, for something you have never seen before is headed your way..." Heron bites her lip.

"Can I go now?" the screen shuts off and then begins to replay the final moments of the Games.

"Prepare myself? Why not..." I mutter, heading down the street to my favorite cafe.

**Author's Note: Grant is the District 7 tribute for next year, if you didn't figure that out. Next year (the 100th Hunger Games) can be found here: www . fanfiction . net/s/7746057/1/26_Rising. Just get rid of the spaces. It's not too late to make a tribute!**

**Thanks to all of you for reading this story, and I hope you are happy with the victor...make sure to read the sequel!**


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